Thursday, April 14, 2011

On the coast.

Wrote this last weekend:

Linda and I are in Astoria for the weekend.

We had planned on staying with our son Todd in Portland, but there is a tad bit of family drama going on with him and his girlfriend, so we decided to just drop by and give him a hug and a talk, and be on our way.

We really enjoyed our last visit to Astoria --which is now more than 4 years ago!

We had dinner at a place called Baked Alaska. I asked for a private booth or some other private place , but where we could see the ocean. "You can see the river and about two feet of ocean," she says, obviously having been asked a million times.

They placed us very near the entrance. I never know if we are being shunted aside or what. Turned out to be directly across from the pilot boat ramp, so watched them come and go out to the big freighters.

"Are these ships actually unloading here in Astoria?"

"Most are waiting to either go up the river, or through the mouth of the Columbia. But, really, for most of them it's just Free Parking.'

The dining location turned out to be fine.

I passed on the clam chowder until I saw my wife's arrive, and I immediately ordered some for myself. The meal was great. (Being on the coast, we ordered steaks. In Bend, of course, we would order seafood. heh.) I do believe the servers are always a tad bit taken back by my gusto.

"How's the meal?"

"It tastes wonderful!" I say in a totally enthusiastic and genuine way.

Had a Baked Alaskan desert, and Linda says dubiously, "Is that alcohol?"

"Um, I believe it has to be 100 proof to ignite," I say. "But don't worry, it ALL burns away."

At the center, I got a pure dose of unburned alcohol and so I suspect did Linda, but I didn't want to spoil it so didn't say anything.

"I think I'm actually starting to get used to this eating out thing. We could do this every week!"
I say.

"More like every month," Linda says, as she eyes the bill. I glance at the amount and gulp.

I had a couple of Deschutes Brewery on tap, and totally felt them. Fell asleep a full hour before normal,(listening to the bellowing of sea lions) and slept a full hour later than normal -- 9.5 hours. Quiet hotel. (Comfort Inn, this time) Nice.

Linda is off visiting church friends this morning, and I'm going to laze around and read and write, and go for a walk along the Columbia River. I don't know why, but I feel totally relaxed in these motels. No pressure.

Read for awhile, (FIDELITY, Thomas Perry, good book), watched the Masters for awhile. Tiger wasn't going anywhere (Tiger, Tiger, Tiger, I thought, poor 'ol Tiger...)

Why am I in my motel room on the coast?

Went walking, east as far as the river trail went. About an hour. It was drizzly, which is fine since it's the coast, and I'm visiting and then it rained a little, which was fine since I had a hood. Only thing that got sopping wet are my shoes.

Farther I went from civilization, the more relaxed I felt. Stress dropping away like layers of clothing.

Counted 12 freighters parked, almost counted my steps, but resisted. Obsessive - compulsive and a control freak? 58 years old and still figuring things out about myself... (I don't really think I'm obsessive-compulsive -- maybe a little twinge.)

Got back to the motel and Tiger is in the lead through nine wholes, made up 7 shots. (Tiger, Tiger, Tiger, good 'ol Tiger. heh.)

When Tiger falls out of contention, will go visit the comic shop here in town, and go to a movie -- then back to watch the killing. Yep, we had to drive 250 miles to watch a movie and golf and t.v.

And baked alaska!

1 comment:

H. Bruce Miller said...

"Yep, we had to drive 250 miles to watch a movie and golf and t.v."

And count the freighters. Don't forget that.

There isn't a damn thing to do on the Oregon coast. Why anybody bothers to vacation there, much less buy a million-dollar second home there, has always bewildered me.