Trekking West: Day 4, Part I: Pit Stop in Seattle

Oh, there was just so much more I wanted to say in the last post! You know how you write quickly just to get something out, then you realize how much you'd forgotten and how lame and kind of empty the post felt? I wanted to say how amazing Samantha was, what an incredible little spirit she has to be able to seamlessly assimilate into a whole new environment, to meet so many new people and to work the room flawlessly. How exciting it was to meet Steve's brother and sister-in-law.  How Sammi greeted her Uncle John and Auntie Cynthia with big hugs, reciprocated in kind by these two kind, gentle "new" members of the family. Without even giving Cynthia a chance to take her coat off, Samantha had engaged her in an enthusiastic game of hide-and-seek. 

Something kind of amazing to us is that Cynthia is a special education teacher. Really? Wow!! We also learned from Diane that Steve's birth father had been an active volunteer in his community, working with people with disabilities, Down syndrome in particular. Here we are with those ever-present connections in the places we least expect them! I love how that happens.

Now on to Day 4...

Surprise, surprise, Day 4 brought more rain.  The flat, grey sky pretty much opened up and peed on us all day.  Umbrella-less, like any good tourist in the Pacific Northwest, I was grateful for my thin, open-knit hoodie under my coat, which was oh-so-useless against the constant onslought.  Better than nothing, I thought to myself. 

Steve, Diane and Per went their own way to meet up with John and Cynthia at a local casino, while Samantha and I drove northwards for the afternoon, promising to meet up again with everyone for dinner that evening.  And where would Sammi and I be going on our own?  Why, to meet up with our blog friends, Cindy and Beth, of course! 

Excited for our lunch rendezvous, we headed out extra-early.  I thought we'd make a short stop in Seattle, a city we'd never before visited, for a quick walk around Pike Place Market, in hopes of capturing some action shots of the famous fish flinging.  We parked in a lot just below the Market.  Now I say "just," but in all reality, it was a 58-step walk up.  Samantha and I counted the steps as we ascended, me urging her to walk faster as I felt my hair turn into a soggy orange cotton ball below my hood.  Amazingly, she laughed the whole way up, completely unfazed by the monumentous task she'd just undertaken. 

The laughter was short-lived.

One could argue that this was no child of mine, this little girl who bristles at the site of shops, or merchants or any other type of store, stall or table.  She did what she does best when not playing up to her endearing public. 

She pouted.

See that lip?

My angelic, petulant one dug in those heels, crossed her arms, and cried bitterly at the thought of having to walk around looking at merchandise beautifully hand-crafted, flowers flawlessly displayed, fish artfully arranged, their eyes wide, mouths gaping.  I'm normally a little squeamish about the latter, but for Samantha's sake, for the sheer hope of child-entertainment, I tried to get her interested, all in vain.  There were no fish being flung, unfortunately, as there was no one actually purchasing any fish while we were there (and don't think I wasn't tempted, just for the sake of a photo-op...).  Not like I thought Samantha would have enjoyed that one little bit anyway.  And, in a bold, lightening-fast move, I stopped the child from sitting down in protest in a river of fish juice streaming from the ice-filled cases out to the rainy street.

fa la la la la la

After a bit of futile strong-arming, I realized that she was actually just hungry, and we'd missed her snack time.  We left the market and walked across the street to a lively, colorful, artsy little coffee shop.  One of those shops you assume must be a dime a dozen in a city like this.  And it probably is.  But we liked it.  And Sammi loved the donut holes.  I indulged in a London Fog - Earl Grey tea in steamed milk with a shot of vanilla.  I added my own finishing touch, a few thick drops of honey, and we were set.

Nuh uh, you can't have it...

20 minutes later, we headed back across the street and into the market, where, tempted by just about every table we passed and cognizant of just how little time those donut holes may have bought me, I quickly found a cute thank-you gift for my next door neighbors who went above beyond to take care of our high-maintenance kitties while we were away.

And poof, my time was up.

Back down the 58 steps, in the rain, to the car, and we headed out of the City towards our next destination.

Next stop:  Day 4, Part II:  Adventures With Beth (and a more successful blogger meet-up)!