The Port City Chronicle (41)

When you’re a writer in lawyer’s clothing

Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing serial novel of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way:“What would you do if you didn’t have enough money to buy espresso?” Ethan asked Tim, watching him use his last dollar at the coffee shop. He was trying to make a point that maybe Tim should work more or buy less,…

Why being President means you’ve drunk the Kool-Aid

Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing serial novel of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way:“We should become farmers,” Adam said, after visiting the Hudson Valley outside New York City one weekend. To date he’d been more of a hunter-gatherer, but apparently he figured he could skip past the bronze and iron ages by learning to farm…

Just because something isn’t prohibited, doesn’t mean it’s allowed

Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing serial novel of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way:“Don’t worry, we’ll have time together this summer, Mama,” Grace said, packing up her backpack. “How about some evening this week? I could stay home for dinner and not go out afterward. We’d have some time together.”

Why there are so few stray fish that need adopting

Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing serial novel of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way: “Do you think I did the right thing putting this shirt on?” Tim asked Milagros, as we sat on their back porch having a beer.

When you’re so excited you pee on your own feet

 Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing serial novel of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way:“This isn’t Law and Order,” Howard said to our client. “We’re not going to win before the last commercial.”

There’s more to live for in an earlier time zone

Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing serial novel of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way:“Hey, everybody,” my ex-boyfriend Adam said, as he rolled in unexpectedly on a Monday morning. “Get up and join the economy.”

Why good ideas always die young

Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing serial novel of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way:“Did you know trees can live to be 1,000 years old?” Tim asked from the couch.

How to stay on top of your testosterone imbalance

Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing serial novel of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way:“Was Ethan surprised to hear I’m dating somebody new?” my friend Nicole asked. She’d gone out with him many boyfriends ago but she never forgets anybody, hence the protection order she has against her.

How tulips are the manicured nails of the flower world

Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing serial novel of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way:“Do you even like me anymore?” Milagros asked Tim. He’d been walking along next to her without saying anything as we made our way from Munjoy Hill to the water.

When Portland just wants to see you naked

Here’s this week’s episode of The Port City Chronicle, the continuing story of Gretchen, a 46-year-old criminal defense lawyer, and her family and friends, seeking love and happiness in Portland the hard way:“I always have road rage,” Dale said, pushing past some tourists standing in a clump on one of the wharves. “I don’t need a car to have road rage. I have road rage watching TV.”
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