Third Day of Solitude.

GETTING too used to this. If I had enough money I'd buy this motel room and never leave. Never go back to that other life. Unfortunately, even as I'm typing this I know it would get old fast. Oh, well, we can dream, can't we? And fool ourselves for a little while.
The lilies in the picture are next door at the pub where I ate dinner tonight. Sauteed prawns - a fresh, "bouncy" texture to the teeth, which to me means they were fresh and cooked perfectly. If pasta can be "al dente" I think shrimp can also.
Today I walked on Indian Beach, which is close to Ecola State Park, just a tiny bit (ever so tiny) north of Cannon Beach. Indian Beach - why, oh, why, didn't I take a phone picture of it? - is the most lovely beach. The weather was perfect! When I get home tomorrow I'll post a photo of it and you'll see what I mean.
I also went to Bruce's Candy Kitchen to test the saltwater taffy and then tracked down a "homemade fudge" sign I saw while walking down the street. I went back to the Cannon Beach Book Shop and bought a copy of "Life Is A Verb" by Patti Digh (sounds like dye). The book was recommended by an old friend and after taking a look it certainly seemed up my alley, so I forked over the plastic. Patti has a Web site, 37 days. Click on it and go there for a while. She seems very genuine. Like this quote from the book by one of my favorite authors Joyce Carol Oates: "We inhabit ourselves without valuing ourselves, unable to see that here, now, this very moment is sacred; but once it's gone - its value is incontestable." - femminismo