day trippers

I've been fortunate to always land in Seattle on sunny days. I hear they are rare. As we pulled into town --no, Seattle is definitely not a town-- as we pulled into the clusterfuck of a city, we passed three accidents, one right after the other, people stopped in the middle of the freeway to change a tire. On the way up I had wondered at roadsigns saying, "if you have a fender bender, pull over to the side of the freeway." Well, yeah. Good tip. Then, upon arrival, it is clear that Washingtonians need direction.
 
We went to the Rock & Roll Museum. It's called something else. And the Science Fiction museum. It was expensive. I liked seeing Janis' magenta feather boa. That was my thrill. And, I guess seeing Hendrix's hand written lyrics was inspiring. And sad. "The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom" (W Blake), or, in somebody else's words: whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  Now, I really believe that is true. Its just that so often it kills ya.
 
I have no regrets.
 
There was a section on the Kingsmen (Louie Louie). One of them lived down the street from me when I lived in Portland years ago just after my father died and my mother fell apart. In that order. I was riding my bike (4th grade) and he was washing his car. Probably a corvette. He squirted me with the hose, I rode over a nail and popped my tire. That's my rock and roll hall of fame.
 
Let's see. We went on a ferry ride to Vashon Island, drove around the island to Tahlequah Bay and on another ferry to Point Defiance. I thought it was Cape Disappointment, but that's at the mouth of the Columbia. You wonder how they got the name. I do, anyway. I guess I could go to: howcapesgettheirnames.com. There's everything else.com
 
Plan for the next run is to go to the glass museum, then take the ferry to Port Townsend and drive down.
 
I got my bike! It is so fun to ride. I'd like to take a bike tour of the San Juan Islands, but I don't know if it is a burly deal. I'm not burly at all. I appreciate people who exert themselves, but I am not one. Riding up Division is a burly as I get. Mt. Tabor would kill me.
 
Well, it's a lazy sunday. The children, his children, are here, still asleep, complaining that we are too loud in the morning. Well too bad. I've tiptoed around one teenager and it didn't do him any good at all. Did harm, in fact. They hate me. It doesn't matter what I do. A wise woman told me this, in relation to step children: The only thing you can do about step children is love your husband.
 
I do I do I do.