We've been absolutely consumed with the tragedies
in Japan. Glued to the TV; our hearts in our stomachs.
We really needed to get out of the house, so we headed west
to Seaside to make sure our coastline was still intact.
Yep, it is.
As beautiful as ever. Even with the thick sea poop in the air.
In case you are wondering, they use this name loosely.
Compared to the other aquariums on the coast.
"you lookin at me? Are. You. Lookin'. At. Me.?"
Touch table! Pokey things, sticky things, rough dry things. Good Stuff.
Henry and his Hermit Crab
Lunch! For the seals, not us.
Chopped up fish parts.
Charlie, of course, had to throw his own fish, but was a little on
short stuff side and couldn't make it over the fence, but that
did not hold him back. He had more fish bounce back onto his forehead and
face than made it into the seal pool.
The Carousel Mall. A classy, classy joint.
It's so refreshing to be able to find a Ceramic trinket store that sells
beloved wolves howling at the moon, dreamcatchers and quality sweatshirts
with kitty cat screenprints all within the same store. No more running
from store to store to satisfy all of my needs. Thank you Carousel Mall.
But then, next to Dreamcatchers, we found a toy store.
Which had EVERYTHING you could ever want if you
are between the ages of 1 and 15, or Nate.
Charlie loved this tea set.
We shared High Tea
But there were so many shiny things, like the actual
Carousel that it was hard to focus on the Earl Grey in front of us.
Our daytrip to Seaside was centered around a lunch of
real good clam chowder.
Nate does not mess around with a "lets just try this place"
No sir re. He is all about connecting with the locals and finding out
where THEY eat clam chowder.
The gal Nate interrogated couldn't remember the name of the
super duper good clam chowder restaurant down the street, except that
it started with a "deeeee" or "doooo" sound.
We walk.
We find Doogers.
We chose so, so wrong.
As we left Doogers, completely hungry and unsatisfied,
We walked past Dundees.
It was Dundees. She meant Dundees.
We did Doogers.
Damn Doogers.
Nate and I have, what we think is a terrible, ornery, inherited gene that requires
us to purchase and eat an Elephant Ear if we pass anyone or place that
sells them.
Saturday was no exception.
This is Henry, about to bite my finger if I planned to take any part
of the Elephant Ear away from him. GRRRRRR.
And then, like his parents, he finishes off his meal by licking he plate.
There is no need to leave perfectly good clumps of cinnamon-sugar butter on the plate.
And then we have monkey see, monkey do. He has the gene too.
And then we proceeded at high speeds, blasting into each other
over and over until those cinnamon-sugar butter clumps starting
threatening to reappear.
And it was a day that the four of us will talk about for a long, long time.
I love you Bartons!
