What a day! The epic six flights of stairs to the top, with six slides to the bottom, was our first stop after we picked Joanne up at her cute townhouse. A stop by the Old Sandwich Shop allowed Evelyn to play in a dedicated kid area while we perused the fair trade items like prayer flags, handmade purses, and yoga mats. In conflict about whether to hit the ferry to Vashon in 15 minutes or over an hour was an easy decision when we realized we hadn’t stopped by the plant nursery across the street or the gardens and trails of Point Defiance. I’ll let my pictures do the talking.
There’s something about taking a Washington ferry that brings you face-to-face with the true locals. The longshoreman, fisherman, dock worker, and lumberjack. Maybe even a geology professor. You can spot them with their crimped hats, long worn through all the seasons, protecting them from the wind and rain and sun, only taken off to be thrown on the workbench before heading inside for supper. Where once white is now a grayish-brown.
Friends and family will see their endless use of the hat and falsely assume they need another. They don’t, but meanwhile, a brightly colored newbie with a taut bill will appear for a Father’s Day or a birthday present. He won’t wear it other than to please the giftee before discarding it in the drawer with the others. It’s this hat, with the local auto repair shop logo or that is his casino reward earning that’s broken in, well-loved, and forever loyal—a simple extension of the wearer’s heart.
On the return trip from Vashon, the ferry was delayed by close to an hour when the hydraulic mechanism to lift the ramp from the ferry malfunctioned. Had this not happened, we wouldn’t have had a front-row seat next to the guard rope, watching the theatrics of six fluorescent yellow-vested men, some very red-faced, most either huddling and staring at buttons or shrugging as said buttons didn’t work. To have gained firsthand knowledge of the precision and skill of watching them dissect and fix the problem was like watching an unsupervised classroom of preschoolers cook a steak dinner to medium rare in a toy kitchen.
With nowhere to be, the extra time spent on the last route of the day wasn’t such a problem for us. Just sightseer adventurers we were, and this was just another part of it. If the calendar allows, we’ll take the couple-hour drive to Anacortes to catch the ferry to the San Juans to further extend our adventuring.
Sunscreen is on my mind. Just like the mower’s been sitting the past three seasons, so has the sunscreen. We’ll need a fresh bottle going into the heightened forecast because I don’t want to look like all the lobster-colored and pained people I saw on Monday after the first warm day after winter last year.
I liked Dave’s synopsis to Joanne of what it’s like being with me, and my manic energy about the dreams I (temporarily, at times) want to realize. Like the living on the bus idea. The idea of converting it into an RV, doing a foot roof raise, and maybe even Airbnbing was what he was referring to. All these ideas he knew would eventually exhaust themselves, and just like Forrest Gump running and gaining a following, I’d turn around and be done. He’s a good partner that guy is. For not shutting me down and telling me how impractical I’m being. Even if I am. I’ll get there,
I think that’s it. My body’s pleased with all the moving and shaking it did today but my breasts aren’t. I’m at the point where they can no longer enjoy the limp handshake fabric of my DKNY Costco bras. I need something that’s going to be a respectable young man with a firm grip that’ll have my daughter home by 8 p.m. Weird analogy, I know, but these are my girls and I gotta take care of them.
Up next is cozy rest in our Hotel Signature 800-count sheets from Costco. If there’s anything Dave and I agree on, it’s that we’ll put extra money into our sheets. And butter. Even though we’re not fancy, it’s those two fineries that make us feel like we are.
Love, Jaclynn
PS Who doesn’t love some good clam squirts?
Going On 40 