Hollywood Farmers Market, July 7, 2012

Just a bit of what I saw at the market, clockwise from the top: Rainier cherries, tomatoes, flowers (and a flower-covered bicycle and its owner, wine, triplets along for the ride, cabbages and onions.

Part 4, our last fun day together, Sunday, August 28, 2011

Elk Cove Winery, Gaston, Oregon turned out to be a very nice vineyard to visit. Once we found it.

We followed the Garmin on what turned out to be a wild goose chase to a dead end. Then we used my iPhone and made it there before they closed! About the wild goose chase, let me say that I've never had so much fun driving forward, then backing up, turning around, all on a hard-packed gray gravel road out in the Oregon countryside, well after we'd left the paved highway.


We'd genuinely enjoyed being together on the entire ride--dust and all--'cause the dust stayed outside the SUV!


Once we were inside the tasting room at Elk Cove, still talking and chuckling about how we finally found the place, one of their employees piped up, "Oh, that happens to people all the time when they use Garmin. The road stops on one side of the ridge and starts again on the other side." We looked at each other and laughed some more. And it was not the wines being tasted that led to the laughter. By the way, Milton's holding Kay's glass--he didn't drink out of two all by himself. Really. And I had sips of two different wine--one doesn't drink and drive, especially with a Zipcar full of family and friends.


Weddings take place at Elk Cove. In fact, one would happen not too long after we left for Portland. Several people worked hither and yon, getting ready. And then two vehicles filled with the wedding party (no bride or groom yet) and folks who looked like wedding guests parked near the SUV.




I enjoyed walking around, taking a few more photos.

Our Daytona 500 Spread and a Pleasant Window

Thanks to everyone for sharing in our joy that Mama and Duncan are home.

Here's our race-day food, which Lamont called a "white trash party in the Northwest Hills," with humor and respect, not putting us down one bit. We all got a laugh out of his observation. Left to right, front row, there's salsa and cashews; second row, BBQ-sauced beef cocktail sausages wrapped in wheat bread (Kay put mustard and pickle relish on hers); third row, sliced cheddar cheese, sliced cacio de roma (sheep's cheese), sliced granny smith and golden delicious apples; fourth row, white zinfandel, Mission tortilla chips and a great big bowl of fresh fruit. We enjoyed ourselves.


About the race itself, our guys didn't win, but the two guys we didn't want to win didn't win, either. Confused? Dale Earnhardt Jr., one of our guys (mine and Kay's), came in 9th; Jeff Gordon (Kay's guy and he's OK with me, too, now that he's a daddy) came in 39th. But, most important is that fact that neither Tony Stewart nor Kyle Busch won. Yea, Ryan Newman!

By the way, I was a bit uptight with 35 laps to go and poured myself a second glass of wine. Relaxed me right nice--I only hollered a little bit.

Afterwards, Kay and I went for a walk, visiting the two thrift stores within six blocks. I got this neat photo of a lovely window in a nearby house that has been converted into apartments.