Only a Prawn In Whidbey
Of course I have to title this post with an obscure song reference that absolutely no-one in the continental United States will ever figure out. Yes, you can go search for it online and probably find the song title, album, and band. But can you also figure out what it means? I think not.
A couple weeks back on a clear but cold day, I took my three boys on a drive. Since moving to Washington State in 2004, I had never been to one of the islands. Sad, I know. So we got in the car and started driving. Destination: Whidbey Island, and the raging megalopolis that is Oak Harbor. Our goal: eat lunch, then drive back home.
We took the ferry from Mukilteo over to Clinton, which is a fairly short ride. There’s not a lot to this story, other than we made the drive, stopped for sodas and bubble gum, and then ate lunch at a little Mexican restaurant in Oak Harbor. We then walked across the street from the restaurant and played on the beach for about an hour. While Preston spent most of the time taking creative shots of the beach and harbor, the younger boys collected shells and threw logs in the water, which is what boys under the age of 10 love to do.
That’s our grand adventure. Took some nice pictures, spent some quality time with the boys. That’s it.