When Visitors Come, Part 4: Oysterville

When we first made reservations in Oysterville, my first thought was, "It's kind of far from Long Beach."--with a negative tone.  But now I think "It's a long way from Long Beach!" Which I have decided isn't a bad thing, particularly in July when the streets and shops of Long Beach are crowded with tourists.

What is left of this once thriving town is quaint and quiet and lovely--and oh so photogenic.

The little cottages are all named with little plaques detailing a brief history of the original owners.

They are all surrounded by mossy little picket fences.

. . . a few of which are adorned with little pink roses.

Of the businesses that used to dot the landscape, which is now mostly sea grass and memories, one of the only remaining is the little oyster shop.

The girls weren't thrilled with its selection of flavored oysters and local cranberries and other assorted jams and jellies and mixes, but they loved the large deck outside that faced the bay.

I had a hard time choosing which of the historic homes I would like to live in.

. . .because really, any would do.

And the quiet was amazing.

The prize for queen of quaint goes to the church with its elaborate detail and red and white paint.

It was practically across the the street from where we stayed.

Literally across the street was the charming little old school house. Now available for family parties or receptions.

The beach house we rented was not as old as the others, and did not have such a long history, but it was heavenly.

It might have had something to do with the layout--the long hall that connected the outdoor and indoor space in a single line.

Maybe it was the beachy decor and soothing white and natural tones that filled the place. . .

and whisked away thoughts of home and work.

Or the massive windows surrounding the fireplace with a stress relieving view of the bay.

Or the picket fences that led to it from the quiet little street.

One for the car. . .

and one for foot traffic.

And while the walk to the water was iffy during low tide, the grassy pathway beckoned us to attempt it. . .

and then beat a hasty retreat after spying loads of spiders lurking in the tall grasses.

The deck provided a close enough, uninterrupted view, spider free.

And while the wheelbarrow along the fence may have hinted at the possibility of work, actual work never crossed our minds.

As clear as the sign post in the middle of town (or at least what once was the middle of town) this location was no longer about work, but all about the lack thereof. . . and the view while we basked in that lack.

When Visitors Come, Part 3: Long Beach

When my mother-in-law comes to visit she comes with an agenda, which is generally fun and fast paced.  This time it involved heading to the coast for a little sun, sand and Sunday market.  Let's start with the sand part.

Long Beach, the world's longest beach, spans the length of the Long Beach Peninsula.  And if you manage to visit on a sunny, not too windy day, it is loads of fun.  Of course the girls think it is fun no matter the weather--so long as sand gets between the toes, among other place, they are happy campers.

It was just our luck that some sort of sand castle building extravaganza was taking place the day we arrived.

Not only was a parking lot converted into a sandy wonderland, but a huge stretch of the beach was decked with sandy castles and sea monsters, chest pieces and. . . actually I am not sure what else the long stretch of beach contained.

The girls had no desire to go find out, so we parked ourselves between the chest pieces in danger of being beaten by the surf and the sea monster that was no match for the tide.

The only sand sculpture these six girls cared about was their own.

But even it held little appeal when the waves came rolling in, tempting them to dip their toes in. . .

and their hands in.

The only moment of uncertainly was experienced by me when the seagulls began circling overhead.

I have been pooped on by not one, not two, but three seagulls in my lifetime.  All on the head, I might add.

 I snapped pictures of them with a sense of tempting fate, knowing that if I became their target, instead of the other way around, at least I would have something to show for it.

The girls weren't that concerned, though.

They were too busy playing and collecting treasures.

After an hour of playing chicken with the surf, we headed back to our cozy little beach cottage, tired and sandy, bellies full of ice cream, to dream about adventure to come.

When Visitors Come, Part 2: Mount St. Helens

After living in a state a short jaunt from an awe inspiring force of nature with the capacity to affect my life in a major way, one would suppose I had visited long before now.  Better late than never.

Over the past almost three years our family has admired Mount St. Helens from a distance--on those few days when the sky was clear enough to actually see it--but never ventured too close.

This is in part because our oldest daughter learned all about it the first year we moved here and was rather reluctant to see it up close and personal.

It took a visit from my mother in law.

This is actually typically how we see our historical places of interest.  As a school teacher she has accompanied us to many interesting sites with visitor centers and gift shops.

This time our group also included Rob's sister and her four daughters.  And the day we went couldn't have been more beautiful: blue skies and 70 degree weather, great for hiking and picture taking.

We stopped at several points along the way, ending up at Johnston Ridge where we watched a video about the 1980 eruption.

 When the film ended (which Signe shook through with her hands firmly clasped over her ears), the screen and curtain rose to reveal a large glass window framing the volcano right before us.  It was awe inspiring.

The girls hiked up the trail ahead of us, but it was nearly six by that time, so we didn't linger long before heading back home.

Next time I would like to actually take the hike up the trail.

Regardless, the girls had a great time and deemed it worth the long car ride--which is saying something!