Then I decided to run a couple of errands and take the kids for lunch--fried calamari for them, and a lobster roll for me. I'd take awesome foodie pictures of the local clam shack and ice cream joint--I'd show off my mad food photography skillz for my blogging audience, and they would leave me all kinds of comments about how awesome I am! And so, of course, my camera battery was dead.
Therefore, you'll just have to take my word about how awesome lunch was. My son and I shared an order of steamers that were so good we moaned aloud and thrashed about orgasmically, and we'll never be allowed in the restaurant again. Then my children ate their fried squids, and I had the first lobster roll of the summer.
That damned lobster roll was so good that when a blob of lobster salad fell on the deck, I did what we all spend years teaching our children not to do. I mean, how disgusting to pick your food off THE FLOOR and eat it, but I did. I sure hope nobody saw me do this. It would be so embarrassing to have anyone except the entire internet know how I wallow in filth.
OK, maybe not filth. After all, we were outside, so my salad didn't fall on a creepy restaurant carpet; it fell on some weathered deck planks. We were overlooking a marina, listening to the cries of the gulls, and admiring the boats. So I think I'm safe from everything except cholera, e. coli, and tapeworms.
You did realize that I'm disgusting, right? OK.
Then I came home and found a working camera.
See? It really was raining. And just look at that gutter. It's practically falling off the house. And now you know why this house--if it actually had a name, a la "Windy Acres," or "Upson Downs" or some such folderol--would be named
I spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Deferred Maintenance taking pictures of the sublime
and the ridiculous.
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