I’m sure my journalism textbooks said something about always getting photos of the road kill. Maybe.

Walkies were a little different this morning.
– 39 degrees outside
– Raining (No really. Again! And I’m not losing my shit over it at all!)
– No Lola, for she is lame
– No sun, for it has forsaken me
But we were that desperate to get outside and get moving, and along the way, we saw a penny farthing mailbox, a dead bird, a potato rock, cows of the forest, and a wet cemetery. It’s kind of like the 12 days of Christmas, but through the eyes of David Lynch.
IMG_3950

Tim: Why on earth do you need a picture of a dead bird? Me: I don’t think you understand how photojournalism works. Tim: Well, are you going to report the cause of death? Me: IT DIED OF RAIN!
Tim: Why on earth do you need a picture of a dead bird?
Me: I don’t think you understand how photojournalism works.
Tim: Well, are you going to report the cause of death?
Me: IT DIED OF RAIN!
I thought it was a potato, even though roadside potatoes don't make sense. So I picked it up.  Rock.
I thought it was a potato, even though roadside potatoes don’t make sense. So I picked it up.
Rock. Not good for potato salad at all.
I don't think the Brothers Grimm wrote any fairy tales about forest bulls. Did they?
I don’t think the Brothers Grimm wrote any fairy tales about forest bulls, but they should have, because this would make an excellent illustration.

IMG_3954 IMG_3956The gray and misty bay

Let a smirk be your umbrella.
Let a smirk be your umbrella.

Trying to embrace the beauty of a PNW winter, but mostly just drinking more

Scenes from our soggy week, with unmitigated gratitude for in-laws who share wine.

Our campsite overlooks Padilla Bay, with a view of several of the San Juan islands. Every 25 hours, it turns into something like 8,000 acres of mud flats. I literally can't even.
Our campsite overlooks Padilla Bay, with a view of several of the San Juan islands. Every 25 hours, the tide goes out, and the bay turns into something like 8,000 acres of mud flats. Mud. Flats
I literally can’t even. Also, nobody would buy shoes called mud flats.
Regardless, I stepped into my big girl boots (Not my cowgirl boots. OMG, not for this), and took a walk down to the shore when the tide was in. This is a typical Washington beaches in winter. Want to know what it looks like in summer? Keep staring.
Regardless, I stepped into my big girl boots (Not my cowgirl boots. OMG, no. Not for this. For this I’ve got an old pair of snow boots.), and took a walk down to the shore when the tide was in.
This is a typical Washington beach in winter. Want to know what it looks like in summer?
Keep staring.
I kept staring. And as if to slap me with a big old neener-neener lesson on life, Mama Nature rewarded me with this bit o' magic. Sorry, Puget Sound. I get it now. Again. Temporarily.
I kept staring.
And as if to slap me with a big old neener-neener lesson on life, Mama Nature rewarded me with this bit o’ magic.
Sorry, Puget Sound. I get it now. Again. But probably only temporarily, I’m thinking.
Later that day, look what else I found!
Later that day, look what else I found!
But the sunshine shut down 15 minutes later, and once again I was back to, "Seriously, why did I even bring these?"
But the sunshine shut down 15 minutes later, and once again I was back to, “Seriously, why did I even bring these?”
That's fine. We get it. If I had to clean a public restroom, I wouldn't allow pets in there either. But...
Meanwhile, back at the park: a common sign to which I have no objections.  If I had to clean a public restroom, I wouldn’t allow pets in there either. But…
... look what's conveniently located outside! Now *that's* dog friendly. I wish more public places would offer hitching posts for pets. Thanks, Bay View!
… lookit what’s conveniently located outside! Now that’s dog-friendly.
I wish more public places would offer hitching posts for pets. Thanks, Bay View!
We have no Christmas tree inside. Plenty outside, though! And thanks to Tim's mom, we've got a string of lights there across the front of the house. All is calm. All is... OK, mostly it's *gray*, but the twinkles help. A little.
We have no Christmas tree inside. Plenty outside, though! And thanks to Tim’s mom, we’ve got a string of lights there across the front of the house.
All is calm. All is… OK, mostly it’s gray, but the twinkles help. A little.