There’s nothing quite like it. Coming back to your childhood home in one of the more cheery times of year. Summers in my hometown of Langley (Whidbey Island) were spent riding my bike, swimming at the lake or camping on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington, in the thick greenery of the Hoh Rainforest.
I just flew in from the desert, so the littlest of forest and city is a shock to me! On this travel day I can say I’ve been in a car to the airport, the plane, the light rail (our modern Seattle train), a commuter bus (going from downtown Seattle to the ferry boat terminal) yep, I take a ferry to my hometown and back in the car for a brief 10 minutes. Whew, now if that isn’t commuter life…
P.S. thanks Alaska Airlines for the free in flight wine. The perfect start going home to my wine maker parents.
Home is surrounded by trees, something is cooking, the door to the deck is ajar… usually a cat milling around. My parents are cat-sitting Trixie “the lap dancer” my Uncle Chester likes to call her heh! She’s a curvacious little lover, with some Twiggy doe eyes.
My mom has always been a crafty woman in the kitchen, and she always accomodated my forever evolving eating habits. Dinner comprised of a light vegetarian pasta with a simple olive oil and herb base. My parents recently returned from Paris & Amsterdam… so along with the usual homemade wines, after dinner we indulged in a baguette, herbed brie, walnuts and Asian pear. I have lately been experimenting with being dairy-free… and that went completely out the window obviously. C’est la vie!
Went to bed with the glow of my favorite glittery lava lamp and a little Bukowski.
I’m still an early riser, but mom is up even earlier. Being such an active gym rat now… I have to find activity. So, pulled out one of the many bicycles in the garage to take for a spin into town. It’s such a feeling, the speed and the wind makes my eyes water as I ride the short 3-4 miles to Langley. And here is where all your seaside/Rosewood town fantasies come to life…
Low tide overlooking Camano Island
This is where my parents would take me every Saturday, to the bakery for a bear claw.
This is where I would dance in the street at the annual Arts and Crafts festival wth the fellow hippies. This is where I would open my pre-ordered Harry Potter books as they would be released.
This is where I would have one of my first boutique retail jobs.
This is where I would see $5 movies in a single screen movie theater.
This is where our friends group would gather at the coffeehouse, to play music, make coffee and date each other.
Just the small town girl life.
First Street, and the famous Dog House has seen better days
Later that day, we trekked north to the farmland. Greenbank Farm is known for a nostalgic festival that worships the Loganberry, which is this sweeter hybrid of a raspberry/blackberry. Serious berry politics. Mainly the draw here is wine and pie. This tiny cafe gets packed to the gills with Dayle Coopers and his police force all tryin’ to snag a pie. And don’t even think about coming around Thanksgiving, where like 300+ pies are on preorder and that’s not even wholesale. But I digress… my lovely mother works the kitchen and I’m lucky enough to get first pick.
Not the Double RR Diner, but this is also “where pies must go when they die” Whidbey Pies
Dinner was at this roadside shack. Literally, The Shrimp Shack sits just outside of Anacortes (we’re on Fidalgo Island, now) proper. Another dietary thing that went out the window, vegetarian-ism. Why do I keep kidding myself?? Um, and did I mention some motha-fucking Manny’s beer!? When I’m home.. I’m indulgent…
I love my parent’s house. It’s nestled in the woods, there is never short supply of great wine and food. Waking up is refreshing. Pour-over coffee and sitting on the porch in the backyard, surrounded by the woods, birds chirping and distant cock-a-doodle doos.