I opted to save the laundry until this afternoon and this morning we went to the Olympic National Park Visitor Center located in Port Angeles. We saw the film, of course, giving an overview of the park and spoke to a ranger about how best to spend our time here. We left with a fist full of park maps of trails we are interested in hiking. Then it was off to Wal-Mart to get our prescriptions refilled. That didn’t take long, only about 30 minutes. Remarkable, really, since they had to be transferred from some place in Oregon. We used our wait time to gather up a few items we had forgotten at the grocery yesterday.
After a quick stop at the bank, our stomachs were announcing lunch time. We had passed what looked like an old diner yesterday and again today which always had a parking lot full of trucks. We thought that was a good sign--the locals stopping in for a hot lunch--a meat and three kind of place. We pulled our trunk in amongst the other trucks and headed inside. Being lunchtime, the place was full of a bunch of old codgers, all of whom were retired apparently, because they were content to sit and talk long after their meals had been consumed. Everybody that came in, with the exception of us, they all knew and passed greetings across the room. Occasionally, they would include Homer, who was eating alone at the booth next to ours, in their conversations. At one point a new, shiny, red truck pulled up and there were several comments about the amount of chrome attached to that truck. Aside from the two waitresses, I was the only female in the place.
The dining room was arranged in a horseshoe shape with a curved bar surrounded by barstools covered in gold Naugahyde. The booths were likewise arranged in a curve along the windows and they too were seats of gold at formica table tops. The ceiling was black and hung with hundreds of silver and blue Christmas ornaments. It was stunning. What a day to be without my camera.
We ordered Rueben sandwiches and french fries for me and hash-browns for Gene. The sandwich was delicious, the fries (about 3 potatoes worth, seemed like) were hot and crispy on the outside and soft inside. The hash-browns, which covered most of the plate, were awesome.
With an over stuffed tummy, I waddled up to the laundry and settled in to that chore. We have spent the rest of the afternoon inside enjoying the sound of the rain as it continues to splatter our roof.
|Portion of mural on Washington St.|