Today’s adventure takes Uncle Markie to Peyton Place, oh, I mean Pacific Beach, Washington.
Got out of town around 10, to Olympia around 11, and off to the coast around 12 after a last minute shopping excursion.
The HMS Rich was loaded with chairs, Curt, myself and Rich. We really should pitch in and get him a nice six-door model.
Hung out with the neighbors most of the afternoon until it was time to fix dinner — a leg of lamb, roasted potatoes and onions, rosemary bread, wine… and for dessert, a 50+ year old bottle of Madeira that I’d been dragging around for 20 years of so. It was amazingly good for being so cloudy.
And why do I call our destination Peyton Place… seems to be a lot of partner swapping going on out here in the woods next to the beach, and sexuality swapping as well. It was definately a Saturday Night around the campfire.
One gentleman was so out of control he had to be escorted back to town. Luckily Rich and I had passed on Karaoke at the local bar favored by all the local and non-local color and got him back to town safely. He was a local, most of the other revelers were Tacomans, Olympians — sheriffs deputies, firefighters, random lesbians.
Just another quiet night in small town USA.
[224.2]
Ah…the Madeira! You described it as “cloudy,” but I believe it was much like the color of septic tank effluent. Yummm. Actualy, it tasted (to me) like green apple, and was one of the most memorable wine experiences I’ve ever had. Thanks Uncle Markie!