Whenever I think of Oregon I think of Overboard and the moth problem off the Pacific coast.
Last Saturday was the first real day of our vacation, after Friday's hideously long drive to Portland. We hit the farmers market, then went to the Oregon Zoo. There is a little tube where you can smell the bobcat's lair. Dang stinky.
Wednesday we went to Hug Point for a little bit in the morning. There is a spot where there is a wagon track dynamited right into the side of the cliff. There are also sea caves and little grottoes (not the Hefner kind) full of tide pools and critters.




Then we went crabbing in Nehalem Bay.

We spent a lot of time throwing the little guys back, but we did get two keepers and turned them into this:
Does anyone even use those silly mallets? They seem like they would just mash everything. I have a hideous video of myself eating the raw oyster, but I'm so ugly after crabbing in the rain that I'm unwilling to give it a wide release.
Later that night Pinga ate some yogurt and was cute.

Thursday morning we hit the tide pools at Haystack Rock for a spell, then went to the Seaside Aquarium, which is a grand moniker for three modest rooms, consisting of a seal pool, a room of salt water aquariums and touch pools, and a gift shop.

It was the perfect speed for our kids, and it's nice to be at a place where nobody yells at you for picking up a hermit crab. The seals beg for fish by barking and slapping their fins on their chests, a sign we have now adopted.
Later that night John ate a pizza and took a picture of himself.

Friday we checked out and headed for home.
Bye, sea house.
Bye, beach.
Bye, deer eating the neighbors' lawn.
We didn't get to Meridian until midnight. Every girls' cross-country team in the state of Idaho was staying in our hotel and they bogarted all the hot chocolate. Pigs. I got my waffles, though. Then the next day we did our final leg. I swear it took twice as long to come home. I was just thankful we were driving home through Oregon and Idaho. Nevada almost killed me last year. I asked John, "Is there even a reason for Nevada?" And we spoke simultaneously:
John: "Gambling."
Layne: "Whores."
Then we had a good laugh.
A twelve-hour drive to a vacation is doable, but only with behavioral controls. Thank goodness for Operation Penguin.