Between the games and the Oyster run, where can you find peace, or the possibility to do something else without the echoes of all that racket? Fled from home to escape the games, and now I'm at the cafe,where of course you can hear it too, kicking back, "peeling the papers" as we say in French. Making the best of it. It's hot again, a genuine summer day. The little town of La Conner is at its worst. No parking space, too many people, too many SUV's, too many Harleys. Those things are quite a sight, too bad they're so obnoxious. I could have gone back to the beach, but figured on a Sunday that would be crowded too, with noisy families and kids. Families dragging kids with ice creams. Bleurk. All these people that move only in packs. It always appeared strange to me how people like to be on top of each other-no pun intended-especially here where there is such a debauchery of space available.
This is one of those unproductive, in limbo days for me. Don't feel like doing anything. Ruminating,on the verge of grumpiness. I also believe these breaks are sometimes necessary, so I just let it be.
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