It seems strange to “recreate” next to such a powerful, unpredictable killer beast.<\/p>\n
—–<\/p>\n
I brought most of my own food for this getaway, but promised myself one Big Indulgence meal each day. Today it was breakfast. To wit: a Dungeness crab omelet topped with Havarti dill cheese and half an avocado, served with a bowl of fresh fruit on the side. I’m not actually that huge a fan of either Dungeness crab or avocados, but it sounded exotic enough to be interesting. And it was. Very tasty, with enough crabmeat in there to feed several sailors.<\/p>\n
I promised you some photos, and the omlet was so pretty I whipped out my camera to take a picture of it. But — groan — “lens error.” Funny how carrying a camera around in a pocket full of lint and dog hair will do that. So no personal pix from this trip. Not one. \ud83d\ude41<\/p>\n
But since I promised, I’ve posted a ‘Net-found photo below. Um, not of an omlet.<\/p>\n
—–<\/p>\n
This town is noted for its art galleries: I gallery hop and admire, but don’t touch. Between the galleries are shops full of high-class beach kitch, fancy novelties, and inexpensive imports. Some of those are nice enough to be tempting. (And get this, there are two<\/i> shops devoted solely to dog-related merchandise.) I’m resisting. So far.<\/p>\n
I’m Christmas shopping for two friends. One is easy to buy for; the only problem in shopping for her is finding too<\/i> many things I know she’d love. The other friend is the hardest person in the world to buy for. She is so self-effacing, so self-sacrificing, so eager to place her interests beneath everybody else’s that finding anything just for her<\/i> is impossible. Last Christmas I gave her a gift certificate for a massage; I have a sneaking suspicion she never used it, maybe even gave it away despite my stern admonitions.<\/p>\n
I want to ply her with small luxuries. She patiently resists being plied.<\/p>\n
—–<\/p>\n
A seagull just landed on the deck railing outside my window and is staring in at me as if he expects a handout. Sorry, bird. Ain’t happening. He looks pretty well fed without my help.<\/p>\n
Even if I were inclined to share goodies with him, it’s apparently verboten<\/i>. The one thing I don’t like about this town and the whole yuppie culture it exemplifies is how much is controlled or forbidden. No feeding the seagulls is just a sample.<\/p>\n
Before being “allowed” to stay anywhere in town, every guest over the age of two has be be registered, in advance, on a police form. Ugh. The instructions on what I’m supposed to do with whatever trash I generate during my stay are so complicated (complete with penalties for not putting the exact right thing in the exact right recepticle) that I’ll probably just pack my trash back home rather than risk committing a grave and costly offense against local propriety.<\/p>\n
Today was trash day and I swear I counted at least four different hauling\/recycling vehicles rumbling up this tiny street. I wanted to run out and apologize for not having anything for them.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, Mr. or Ms Gull is still staring and I think I’ll have a late lunch now just to drive the poor old bird crazy.<\/p>\n
So I’ll leave you with that promised photo. Now everybody who knows the Oregon coast knows exactly where I am:<\/p>\n
![\"HaystackRockSunset\"](\"https:\/\/www.backwoodshome.com\/blogs\/ClaireWolfe\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/11\/HaystackRockSunset-450x300.jpg\")
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