Cloudy skies

There’s an old saying about Oregonians: “We don’t tan – we rust!” Never was the aphorism more evident than yesterday when WWP greeted and escorted his siblings and other relatives along the Oregon coast. The normally serene summer scene to be enjoyed seaside in August was nowhere to be found. Instead, clouds rattled and thundered, lightning illumined the heavens, and the skies unleashed all manner of wetness, from mist to showers to outright rain. Oh, it’s pleasantly warm enough [the low 60s in many places], but it’s not the summer sublimity that had been promised the out-of-town guests. Aunt Marjorie, now in her 95th year, remarked that in all her visits to the Oregon coast she has yet to see the sun. The forecast ain't so promising either.

Between the squalls, WWP and Housemate shopped the five boroughs of Lincoln City, from Oceanlake to Taft – both newly refurbished with attractive sidewalks, crosswalks, benches, foliage and public art. A side trip to nearby Gleneden Beach coincided with the longest dry stretch in the day, where there was time to kick back and view all the unusual and odd scenes one normally encounters at the beach. And here once again, another Oregon adage was proved: Tourists go to the beach to collect shells; Oregonians go to the beach to pick up litter.

Before dinner, wine and cheese. After a nice dinner [seafood, what else?] and a few rounds of dominos. Ah, the good life.

Worries? What worries? We're rust-proof.

[See more photos on WWP's photostream.]