Adventure 138: Seattle, WA/Post I

Hey, Map Boy! Where's Waldo?

Early morning errands helped fill the spaces of our minds this morning. We took Elizabeth's car into the shop for a check up and an oil change. While we waited for the car to be serviced, we walked to our longtime favorite Seattle eatery, the original Dish Cafe in Ballard. We have eaten twice at the new Dish near Elizabeth's house this past week, but as is often the case, the original is much better. Maybe it's the trauma of trying to keep up with the older sister. Emotional trauma can cause all sorts of mischief. Today, for example, my Bunny, otherwise known as Waldo, left her phone on the front seat of Elizabeth's car. It's really hard to hear the phone when it's over a mile away. We called the Subaru dealer and they said they'd put it in the glove box. I thought, "Good, that should make it so much easier to hear." For those of you who don't know Waldo (Wally), he famously loses things as he travels. The gimmick is to find his backpack, his ax, his binoculars, or whatever else he's lost along the way in the midst of incredibly detailed scenes. The books play to the obsessive/compulsive nature of just about everyone who has ever had the misfortune of picking one up. I'm not sure Wally carries a cell phone, but since I'm making this stuff up, I guess I can add one. I do know that making sure Judy has her cell phone has been number one on our checklist during this adventure (We've become as dependent on it as any junkie is to his "stuff"). It didn't really matter this time because we used my phone to call the car dealer (While not smart, my old flip phone is a reliable backup, and I almost never lose it). After LIbby's car was finished, we drove over to Douglas and Nora's to continue the vigil of Nora'a passing. She was up briefly today, long enough to receive two visitors. One was young Miss Kate, a close family friend. It felt good to watch Nora's smile as she held Kate's hand. The other was her co-worker Graham, who has been on Nora's team for over fourteen years. Again, his genuine love added a measure of solace. Nora managed about a half hour before she retired. The visitors left, and to pass the time, Douglas, Judy (The Wily Cager), and I played cribbage. As Douglas is my witness, the Wily Cager tried every cheating trick she knows (We're so proud of her), including a new one when she forgot to deal me any cards in the three man game we were playing. Douglas is a registered gun owner, so he pulled out his nine millimeter pistol, and while I  held Judy's legs over her head (She's really flexible), he shot two toes off of each foot. Her balance was a little impaired afterward, but she promised not to use any more creative math, especially when playing cards with a couple of toothless Idahoans like me and Douglas. Actually, we had a good afternoon playing at cards. We let a meaninglessness game act as a foil for some good humor. It's either laugh or cry at this point. We did a little of both. Nora, who is with us less each day, rested peacefully in the next room. Late in the afternoon, we left in order to let Elizabeth into her apartment. She has just one precious set of keys, which is good because it makes her apartment building that much more secure. After she got home from work, we drove over to Ballard to a BBQ joint named the Bitterroot. It was medium. We topped the evening off with a bowl of frozen yogurt for dessert. Tomorrow morning, Elizabeth (Not a morning person) will drive us to the airport so we can begin the process of recovering Fric and Frac. Our plan seems no crazier than any other stupid human trick I've ever done: Fly to Palm Springs Saturday; drive to Las Vegas Saturday night; drive to Wells, Nevada Sunday night; drive to Baker City, Oregon Monday night; drive to Spokane, Washington Tuesday night; return to Seattle/Queen Anne, Washington Wednesday; continue to relish the fact that life is good, especially today.

 This eatery, The Dish Cafe, is on Leary Way in Ballard. It consistently prepares an excellent breakfast experience.

 The Dish places Aardvark hot sauce on each table, but they offer a plethora of other choices to be enjoyed by a knowlegable connoisseur. 

 May I speak to Waldo?

 Thin gruel notwithstanding, I continue to drink the hard stuff. No butts about it.

 Fitting on the eve of a fourteen hundred mile power drive that we should eat in a restaurant with a map for a menu.

Though passable for Seattle, this weren't Texas, Dewie.