The Pictorial Cup Runneth Over

Where to start, where to start? If a picture said a thousand words, wrote half-okay and could type on my computer, it'd practically do this entire entry for me. C'mon pictures, shape up and evolve already! The arm is better, 10 weeks this past Friday. Wish I had the x-ray to show, but the doc says the only way I'd break it again is if I decide to dead lift my Jetta or a 600 pound table. Though I must say, I'd already started lifting rugs and 150 pound recliners again, as I started assisting last week.

During that windstorm on Wednesday or Thursday I was helping out on a shoot in Mukilteo, and I kept looking over at the Southern tip of Whidbey Island thinking "I've never been there; I should go." So I did, this weekend, with Jenna. We made the trek on Saturday, driving North then winding our way back down the island, ultimately taking the ferry back after our excursion.

Deception Pass: check.

Walking on Whidbey Island: check.

Fighter Jets with a Black Hummer/SUV thing: check.

Weird diagrams explaining the proper procedure on how to flush toilets on Whidbey Isle: check.

Eating a slice of marionberry pie at the Knead and Feed in Coupeville: check.

Jenna working her charm on our waitress. That or going into sugar shock: check.

Conveying just how otherworldly homemade marionberry pie, topped with sugar really is: check

Suspended whale bones, twenty feet above one's head: check.

Another beach from which to take a photo: check.

Mack digging for clams or mussels and/or geoducks: check.

And we ate this pummelo (for my mate Adrian Clift's daughter): check.

Wordapotamus.

Mike