Mom and I are heading out to the coast tomorrow for some time at the beach. On the Washington/Oregon beaches, you never know what the weather is going to be. It doesn’t matter how old you get, you know how Mamma’s are? Like she keeps asking me if I have a sweatshirt? Do I have a raincoat? Have I packed my toothbrush? (no, I made that last one up! )
So today we were running errands, like go to the bank so we have enough cash, like pick up a few groceries, because the places we stay have a kitchen (more important, they have a view of the OCEAN!), pick up a junky beach-book or two, and some Sudoku, and then, let’s go have lunch!
Mom LOVES Alaska fried clams, and Ivar’s does them the BEST, so we drive north to Mukilteo, but it takes forever because they are doing some road repairs on the back roads we usually take, and our “short-cuts” take a lot of time.
“Promise to remind me to take photos this time.” I ask her, but she won’t promise.
A few bites in, I remember. I’m getting better.
Here are Mom’s Alaska Fried Clams:
Even thought lunch portions are smaller, it was still a lot of clam, and very very rich, breaded and then sauteed in butter. Mom says her green beans were also really good.
Here is my grilled Alaska salmon, on a bed of spinach and orzo salad vinaigrette:
I’m like Popeye, I love SPINACH! This whole meal was delicious, and, once again, we were happy to see the restaurant had a good clientele eating lunch. Even Seattle is begining to feel the economic crunch.
To wile away those last few minutes before breaking the fast, and divert your attention, here are a few jokes I got in my mail today, family kind of jokes that made me smile:
While I sat in the reception area of my doctor’s office, a woman rolled an elderly man
in a wheelchair into the room. As she went to the receptionist’s desk, the man sat there,
alone and silent. J ust as I was thinking I should make small talk with him, a little boy slipped
off his mother’s lap and walked over to the wheelchair. Placing his hand on the man’s,
he said, ‘I know how you feel. My mom makes me ride in the stroller too.’.
As I was nursing my baby, my cousin’s six-year-old daughter, Krissy,
came into the room. Never having seen anyone breast feed before, she was
intrigued and full of all kinds of questions about what I was doing. After
mulling over my answers, she remarked, ‘My mom has some of those, but I don’t
think she knows how to use them.’
Out bicycling one day with my eight-year-old granddaughter, Carolyn,
I got a little wistful. ‘In ten years,’ I said, ‘you’ll want to be with your
friends and you won’t go walking, biking, and swimming with me like you do now.
Carolyn shrugged. ‘In ten years you’ll be too old to do all those things
Working as a pediatric nurse, I had the difficult assignment of giving
immunization shots to children. One day I entered the examining room to give
four-year-old Lizzie her needle. ‘No, no, no!’ she screamed. ‘Lizzie,’ scolded
her mother, ‘that’s not polite behavior.’ With that, the girl yelled even
louder, ‘No, thank you! No, thank you!
On the way back from a Cub Scout meeting, my grandson asked my son the question.
‘Dad, I know that babies come from mommies’ tummies, but how do they get there
in the first place?’ he asked innocently. After my son hemmed and hawed awhile,
my grandson finally spoke up in disgust. ‘You don’t have to make something up,
Dad. It’s OK if you don’t know the answer.’
Just before I was deployed to Iraq , I sat my eight-year-old son down
and broke the news to him. ‘I’m going to be away for a long time,’ I told him.
‘I’m going to Iraq .’ ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Don’t you know there’s a war going
on over there?’
Paul Newman founded the Hole in the Wall Gang Camp for children stricken with
cancer, AIDS and blood diseases. One afternoon he and his wife, Joanne
Woodward, stopped by to have lunch with the kids. A counselor at a nearby table,
suspecting the young patients wouldn’t know that Newman was a famous movie star,
explained, ‘That’s the man who made this camp possible. Maybe you’ve seen his
picture on his salad dressing bottle?’ Blank stares. ‘Well, you’ve probably seen
his face on his lemonade carton.’ An eight-year-old girl perked up. ‘How long
was he missing?’
God’s Problem Now.
His wife’s grave side service was just barely finished, when there was a massive
clap of thunder, followed by a tremendous bolt of lightning, accompanied by even
more thunder rumbling in the distance. The little old man looked at the pastor
and calmly said, ‘Well, she’s there.
This was the temperature this morning when I went to pick up my Mom:
I think AdventureMan would be wearing his long johns and a fleece vest, but to me, it feels great.
In late August, early September in Seattle, the day often starts off cold and grey and foggy, but by noon, all the clouds and fog burn away and it is a glorious, warm beautiful day.
Here’s the WeatherUnderground Webcam photo for Seattle today:
Is that gorgeous or what?