Beth and I spent a lovely Thanksgiving dinner together - just us, our two-person family. With the size of the crowd and the rainy weather, we decided not to deep-fry the turkey as we have done in recent years and to instead cook up a leg of lamb. Mmm, delicious little helpless lamb. Beth stuffed the leg with a menagerie of pecans, wine-soaked prunes, chorizo, goat cheese and spinach. And it was good. Had some mashers and Zack's spicy sausage stuffing, forgot the veggies but really, c'mon, do you really need the veggies when there is no family around?We sorely missed our Davis Manor crew and the warm cozy dinners. Plus no fried turkey means no after-burner party where we grill any and all guest fryables in the leftover turkey oil.As a kid, my family tradition was to drive up to the woods the day after Thanksgiving to cut down a Christmas tree, drink cocoa, maybe ride in a horse-drawn carriage, you know. Corny and so wonderful. So we waited a few days due to Beth's work and class commitments, but then Sunday we made it out to the tree farm. We drove around for a bit up Hwy 203 before finally finding a nice family-owned place out of the way. The owners were friendly and helpful, the day was moist and misty. We spent some time deciding between a handful of different trees, using power poles, fence posts, and a roving black lab for points of reference to find our way back and forth. Tree adventure:
The first tree we liked, and the tree we eventually brought home
Ladies and gentlemen, Beth Ann McOmber...
...performing feats of strength
Lit and decorated, practically oozing cheer into our cozy living room
Beth and I took yet another fantastic trip last weekend. We drove about 2 1/5 hours southwest from Seattle to the coast just north of Oregon, to a little town called Westport. The inspiration for this trip came right out of the pages of Via, the AAA magazine. Kind of like picking an adventure out of National Geographic, but a little less exotic and a little more trashy. I suppose we've become accustomed to the countless quaint little expensive artist retreat towns all up and down the Northern California Coast. These towns - Westport, Grayland - are perched on stunning pieces of land, but the towns are fairly run-down. The constant rain can't help much (the marquee on the roof of the local hardware store advertised something called Rid Moss) and they're a relatively long way away from metropolitan areas and so aren't very touristy.We rented a motel room from this incredibly friendly Norwegian couple. Photos of them on their site. The rooms were modest but very clean and you could tell they put a lot of effort (if not money) into making the spaces homey. I was impressed by the live succulent in the room. During our initial survey of available rentals in the area we came across a cabin curiously named The Beastmaster's Den. You must follow the link to see the details as my wording would not do it justice. Go ahead, look now and make sure to look at the photos. Yeah, right? Notice there is only one window in the whole cabin and it is blinded by wooden slats.So yes, we stayed at the Pacific Inn with our hosts Egil & Gunvor. After lunch of one of the tastiest fish sandwiches I've had yet (I admit I've had a lot lately) we drove around the small town a bit. Along the main drag I checked my speed when I saw a cop parked in a lot facing the highway. As we passed slowly, Beth remarked that it looked as if he were taking a nap in his car. We swung it back around and discovered:
There, there, sleep, gentle cop. I'm going to come a bit closer.
Whoa. That's not a real cop. I didn't realize until looking at the photo later that he seems to have lipstick smeared on his lips, ear and neck (you can click the photo for a larger version). Apparently there's not a lot going on in Westport.We went to the beach and scoured the sand for marked sand dollars, part of a local celebration of driftwood and flotsam and jetsam.
Beth, happily searching the beach for marked sand dollars
Me, enjoying the sunshine 
Looking down the beach. The Washington beaches feel much more stark and isolated than those in California. Despite the cold and wind, they seem more tranquil up here.
Blowing sand
From a lookout tower in Westport. There were surfers down there along the jetty - all decked out in full-length hooded wetsuits. We were surprised to learn that Westport is home to two surf shops. On the horizon you can see the snowy peaks of the Olympics.
Again from the tower, looking back on the marina. According to the Westport tourism magazine, Westport is one of the best charter fishing spots in the WORLD - they said it. The area is also called the Cranberry Coast. Just south of Grayland were countless farms of cranberry bogs, wide flat expanses of scarlet. This is also where they grow the prized cran-apple.
Is it global warming? Or perhaps a pack of lies spun by these northwestern mossbacks to keep southerners away? Either way, the reports of miserable Seattle winters have so far been false. In fact, the weather is exciting in that it changes from day to day. Some wind, some snow, some rain and them BAM! A sunny day. A morning walk revealed Mt. Rainier looming above and beyond the metropolis. Photos from my walk follow: (click a photo for a larger version)
(above & below) Mountain and city juxtaposed.
(above & below) Some hazy Cascades off to the east.
It's neat to see how folks adapt to the dense living situation, though this rig would seem to require a bit of parental supervision.
Beautiful Thai Restaurant down the street a ways. Don't know yet if the food matches the facade
Entrance to a chiropractor's office. Despite the fact that you have to be a little more careful with your cash and drugs, we're enjoying the overall city-ness of this place. Art and music and good food all around. Last week we went to a show that was performance as much as it was music. The band wore red shrouds (Beth says they were graduation robes, but "shrouds" sounds much better) and big floppy yellow hats with black netting hanging over their faces. Two percussionists backed up synthesizer, bass and guitars. The music was deep and droning and the vocalist finally emerged, crawling onto the stage in a furry white costume and orange masquerade-style mask with a long pointed nose. Again,we differ on the description. I say he was dressed as a snowy owlet while Beth says baby penguin. I'm sure he would tell you he can't be classified. He was more of a vocalist than a singer, using his voice to wail and chant in a very beautiful way, often sounding very Indian. Wonderfully weird.More photos:
This entire graffiti scene has a snow/skiing theme. By his choice of sweater, I assume that the green monster is sponsored by Rainier Beer.
Painting on the side of a brake shop.
Hand-illustrated show flyer. Love it! Especially in that it is also hand-cut. Notice that $2 Rainier is listed on their happy hour sign. Yup.
This is a fixture at the playground near our house. From the street it looked like the structure was just falling apart. It took close investigation to realize what was going on.
More outdoor art, this mural on the side of a brewpub & cafe. We had lunch here once, including a grilled sandwich that included tuna salad, sauteed mushrooms and avocado. Yes, it was good.
Stay back! Those bunnies on the lower left aren't very friendly looking up close. On the giraffe's chest is a marquee to promote the specials...
...and up close you can see that the marquee has been cleverly altered. Or did that G just fall down on its own?Super Bowl came and we ate and ate. Fired up the grill and made my someday-famous "Your mama's so hot chicken" to wrap up a whirlwind weekend of friends and food and football. So now its February. We're moved in and settled in. I suppose I should get myself a job. Do they still have those in this economic climate?
