BLACKBERRIES TRUMP RAIN.

Windows you cannot see out of greeted our morning, but Jim wanted to go to Mt. Vernon and find blades for his razor and pick up some drug store type items while I stayed and did some computer projects with a sloooow signal.

The rain lightened up and since I don’t melt, I decided to pick some blackberries we had scouted out the night before. I came back drenched but triumphant. And, I caught Jim  by cell and requested he bring home vanilla ice cream. Made a great lunch. My container filled six berry baskets.

I had mail to pick up at Anacortes Post Office, so we stopped at the Eagles for a beer before the Farmers Market opened. New friend, Johnny, claimed he stopped the rain just for us. Anacortes Erie is one of the friendliest clubs. Johnny told me he is a full-blooded Quinault Indian and he had great stories to tell.

The market opened at 4 o’clock and the first thing I saw was round eggplants…

…white eggplants…

…and varigated eggplants. I love buying them just because they look beautiful in my fruit bowl. And, I like eating eggplant, though Jim doesn’t touch the stuff. I bought the odd ones I’d never seen before.

Everything is so fresh and beautiful. I bought carrots, lettuce, tomatoes and peaches. I love farmer’s markets.

Another thing I like about the markets is the food. There were ten different dinner plates you could buy, different types of Mexican, Greek and salads. Another booth featured grilled sausages and hamburgers. At this stand a woman sold nothing but corn on the cob. If you like, she dresses it with whipped cream and cheddar cheese,  or chili. We were planning on a veggie burger at the Eagles and neither of us were hungry at that point.

A young musician serenaded the shoppers next to a “cafe” area of tables and chairs for people to sit and enjoy the food and music. Only one person was eating. It was only about 4:30.

The pecan tart looked tempting.

Home baked, the woman told me she makes her blackberry tart with a strong egg yolk crust and a crumble top. The desserts go before the entree  food offerings. I wonder why that is?

Flowers, at $5 a bloom can be like this one,  the size of your head.

The colors and size just knock you out.

My friend Pam gave me a foldable vase for the Motor Home, but space is limited and we only used it once. If the weather was nice, I could put a bloom on our outdoor table when we stay in one place for a week.

We went back to the Eagles and it turned out they were having a big barbeque this weekend, grilled silver salmon,chicken or ribs with home-made pies. They canceled their regular dinners to prepare the big feast. They suggested the Island Cafe close by. We passed this picture of Rudy Malland, Banjo King, father of Bev Malland, a good friend of Jim’s. He loves Anacortes and claims if he had to park and live permanently some place, this would be his choice.

When we returned to the motor home, the tide had just come in next to our camping spot.

A could see a light blanket of fog coming in too, and within ten minutes the whole area, including the camp grounds, was swallowed in mist.

 

 

 

 

ORCAS ISLAND

Adventuring out for the first time since arriving in Washington once again, we ferried to Orcas Island. The island has a State Park, a falls, several lakes, and one main community, East Sound, which isn’t very big.  Artsy, touristy, friendly, a lovely place to visit. Jim thought I’d like the two other main communities of Rosario Resort and Olga, so we took the Bronco over.

The ferry, Yakima , loads a couple of hundred cars and some trucks & trailers, a motor home or two. The ferry system here is part of Washington State transportation. For a  neophyte, the ferry is an adventure in itself. The ride over was about an hour. We idled around the outside decks and took foggy pictures.

The first picture of the nose of Yakima headed out to open waters was clear.

We hadn’t even cleared the dock before the weather was showing its misty character.  Coming from Murphys’ steady 90 degree weather, I was bundled with a sturdy jacket, a scarf and hat while many Washingtonians are quite comfortable in shorts and a sweater.

Even the baby has short sleeves.

Islands in the distance poke up out of the fog layer.

As you pass close to an island, you see it around the mist. There are many un-named small islands in Puget sound.  Or perhaps they have names on some geological map, but because they are unoccupied, they are anonymous clumps of beauty set there deliberately, no doubt,  by some tourist association.

This one reminds me of a cupcake. In fact there are a number of  perfectly round little islands of different sizes peppering the sound.

It’s hard to beat a day out on the sound with such beautiful scenery all around.

I took a lot of pictures because I bought a new camera and I’m experimenting with its various settings and features, which are many.

The colors seemed much cooler than those taken with my old Cannon and the foggy conditions left everything looking pretty gray and drab. That is reality.  I ran these pictures through a Picasa edit and pressed the saturation button to bring up a bit of color. Not quite sure yet what I think about them.  I have ten days to return the camera if I’m not happy with it.

Here we are, destination Orcas. I’ll report on Olga and Rosario Resort subsequently. We have set a  leisurely pace for this summer and  the next phase of my China journal from old notes must be typed.  I want to remember and share China from 2006 on these pages this summer as well. You know, part of my many unfinished projects I’ve talked about.

RAIN AND FOG THROUGH SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK

From Mary’s Desk:

The campground at Big Meadows was a welcome sight after a horrific day for Jim, driving 115 miles through fog so thick his eyes were strained and his shoulders tense from navigating curve after curve in the mist. Off and on rain, kept the wipers busy as well, but the fog was the worst of it.

When we reached the campground’s safe harbor, the sky belted out a drenching rain that obliterated the view from every window and rolled down the parking areas in torrents.

The pictures I attempted through the mists have an unusual quality to them, like weeds growing out of nothing.

The mountains behind the trees and bushes are invisible.

Occasionally, a clear spot of sun would pop up around a corner and I’d get a clear picture through the windows if I could actually open my camera in time. Then, in 20 seconds, it would be gone.
We crossed onto the Skyline Drive, an extenuation of the Blue Ridge Parkway which is part of the Shenandoah National Park. It made for a long day. Since mornings tend to be overcast we had no way of knowing that it wouldn’t clear. This road is still the most beautiful in the United States, and now, its clean and lush for tomorrow. (Late Post, no signal this a.m.)