Last night in Port Angeles . . .

Since it’s been quite a while since my last post, I wanted to make this one a compilation of highlights — a lovely Mother’s Day, the first since I can remember that everyone has been together– visits with friends, good conversations, numerous meals out–but suddenly the time got away from me. If I don’t post this now, another couple of weeks will slip by.
So. My last day in Washington and I’m scurrying around picking up bits and pieces from the various places I’ve stayed over the last six weeks or so.  I leave early tomorrow, Monday, morning–assuming all goes according to plan– stop en route for a brief visit with friends in Poulsbo, then drive on south.  I’ve done this drive so many times, I know exactly the point at which I’ll be ready to call it a day–about two and a half hours south of Portland, Oregon.  I have the motel reservation made, my travel kit ready –bubble bath, candle, matches, wine, a potato to microwave, fruit, cheese.  A hot soak, a good night’s sleep and I’ll be ready to continue driving south the following day.  Next stop, Casa Fishermeyer in Walnut Creek. Jerry will be ready with wine and political commentary, Kit with the scoop on places to shop. I’m ready.

In addition to scurrying around, I’ve been Baby sitting.  Chris and Suzanne’s dog, Baby, is asleep at my feet as I write this.  We both enjoyed a quiet weekend while C&S visited the Mother Earth fair in Puyallup.  Sad to note that Suzanne’s bees which had been buzzing quite vigorously were all dead when she checked them Friday morning.  She was hoping to find some answers at the fair.  No shortage of bumble bees in the lilac and in the fields of buttercups and daisies all around the property though, it’s all quite idyllic–blue skies and sunshine, the scent of clover in the air.  It’s wonderful spending time out here, very peaceful and relaxing–Maxwell the goat’s fearsome horn dance notwithstanding.

Friday night, Flora and Barbara brought sleeping bags and we had a sort of geriatric pajama party–I cooked, we all drank wine and laughed a lot. Sunday morning, we donned gardening gloves and trooped out to the nettle patch. I’m feeling quite evangelical about the culinary merits of nettles. We shared a cheese and saueteed nettle omelette. Not a scrap left.

By La vie en France

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