Despite the first half of our flight home, wherein a fat baby screamed his fat head off for 2hours and 56 minutes of the 3 hour flight from Seattle to Minneapolis (we were plane switchers). I told Mike 'That kid' (Stressing kid with as much disdain as if I called him an m.f.er) 'Will fall asleep as we are landing!'
I so called that right! I was so mad at him, I wanted to pinch him. He wasn't pulling his ears, so it wasn't like he was upset because of pressure in his ear or whatever. He was pissed that his Mama wouldn't let him down. She gave him a lint roller and proceeded to waltz him up and down the aisle so that every traveller on our packed plane could get an earfull, and indeed pay for her reproductive choices.
However, that alone could not take away from my trip to Washington. I absolutely adored it.
The state is lovely.
Albeit, I was there for 2 days before I realized that the town of Port Orchard was surrounded by the most beautiful mountains. The overcast kinda covered them up.
The first day there, we hopped on the ferry from Bremerton to Seattle. I was taking everything in. I adore the way the houses are built on little hills over looking the water. The ferry did sway on the water a bit, and it seemed like no one but me was aware of it.
When I saw seattle, I was so bijiggity with the pompatus of travel! I jumped up and down, and Mike and I braved the wind and mist to get our pictures made on what he calls 'the Pickle fork.'
The city doesn't feel like a 'city'. It's jam packed with places to drink coffee, and wannabe artists and musicians who encourage sing-a-longs and take requests.
In fact, Seattle feels safe, and very small townish.
And without sounding racist..that is the whitest place I've ever been in my life. I didn't really get a feel of diversity, although everyone I met was friendly.
I fell in love, in passionate love with a place called the Rocky Mountain Candy shop.
Pull up a chair, I'm about to tell you why.
It's a delish delight known in those parts as a 'tiger tail.' It's on a stick.
Personally, I like any treat that is named after a tiger. Frosted Flakes is famous for it's tiger, and everyone knows they are good.
But this tiger tail...well that was new to me.
And with the appeal of it being on a stick....it was almost a given that I must try it.
I asked the girl behind the counter what exactly a 'tiger tail' was.
She said 'A chocolate covered Twinkie.'
Yes, please, feel free to re-read that. A chocolate covered twinkie on a stick.
Life gets no better than that. I am assured.
A person desiring to try said confection had her choice:
Milk chocolate with white chocolate stripes
OR
White Chocolate with milk chocolate stripes
I went with the white chocolate selection, and I was not dissappointed. In fact, I was beside myself with joy.
It must be noted that in the Pacific Northwest, it must be a trend to name your treats after the tiger, because at the port orchard candy shop, Michael and I bought fudge. Of course, when in Rome...or when in a fudge shop...
I chose, what else but 'Tiger Butter.'
Turns out Tiger Butter is peanut butter fudge with 'An extra shot of peanut butter.'
Michael took me on tour of the Puget sound area, with many many candy shop, bakeries, fudgeries stops. Wherein we purchased yummies from each stop.
Poulsbo bakery's snowman cookies made me a happy tourist walking along a boardwalk. Until a seagull came flying up. Mike said 'Do NOT give him any cookie.'
He was swirling ahead and I said 'Ok. I won't.' Like that bird was gonna get a charity bite of my treat! Please!
He said '100 will appear out of nowhere.'
I said '100?'
He had no time to answer because circling above and cawing or whatever they do...seagulling..whatever was more seagulls in hopeful congregation.
I wrapped my cookie back in it's little wax baggie for safe keeping.
Ain't no seagull gonna swoop down and take MY snowman cookie!
Let me just say Poulsbo is the cutest Viking Town. We walked the distance of it, me trying to shake my carsickness (there's some curvy roads in that part of the nation!)
After going to Poulsbo, we made a stop at a picturesque town called Port Gamble. At this point, I was willing the gods for me not to throw up, and wondering why I didn't take my drammamine before entering curvy road central.
We got out, and went in the general store/shell museum/town museum.
The shell museum was on the upper floor, the town museum was on the lowest floor.
I kept telling Michael how beautiful the town was, and it is...but the beauty turned to Stephen King freakishness quickly. Once down in the basement, we learned that Port Gamble was once a logging town, but now it is just a historic town. 'THE company' owns and operates the town. So said the lady sitting behind the desk in the museum.
In my already car sickened state, I fashioned a wild story wherein this lady was 'the Company' and she was in charge of Mind Control of the mini beautiful town.
And I swear that general store is haunted beyond belief, because when I was in the bathroom, my stall door shook as though someone was trying to get in my stall. I was the only person in there. It was so creepy.
We walked up to the town cemetery to get fresh air.
We started giggling about how Stephen Kingish it was there.
Mike said 'they aren't going to let us leave, you know?'
I said 'Stop!'
But the creepy factor was over the top there. I am sure there is a seedy underworld happening there en force.
Luckily as we jumped back in the rental to return to his parent's house, no Port Gamblers tried to hold us hostage under their mind control freakishness. We made it safely back to Port Orchard, and was entertained by his parent's stories.
I completely see that Michael gets his sense of humor from his sweet dad.
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