Tracy decided that we should visit her relatives cabin on Whidbey Island. So we went and picked up the key from her son's grandparents on Friday. We would've left that evening, but Jay's birthday is tomorrow, so we met up with him and a bunch of his friends at The Bush Garden for drinks and to watch some folks murder some pop songs. I never acheived the level drunken bravado that would allow me to get my ass up there (despite Tracy's urgings - I'm like: "I sing to you all the friggin' time! And only when will cause me to embarrass myself does it count! Just like a woman!!") Jay was feeling no pain when we left, but I imagine that a trip to the Honey Court for some food later made the transition back to sobriety a tad easier.
With all that out of the way, we got an early start and arrived at the cabin (more like a small beach house) Saturday afternoon. The view was quite lovely. We were told that the tide was going to be really low around noon the next day. We went for a quick jaunt to the beach. The tide was coming in, so we pretty much put on our jammies, packed the CD player (roughing it? Hardly.) and laid around. Tracy packed quite a bit of food. Devilled eggs, AriZona green tea (for me), chicken breasts marinated in various spices, fruit (yick!), potatoes, lemon bars (for me), eggs, onions, garlic, pineapple juice, club soda and a bottle of Stoli. I built a fire and tended the grill that evening. We had steak marinated in Kalbi sauce and corn on the cob. Then we got our drink on.
The next day, we rolled out of bed and finished breakfast as the tide was going out. Armed with shovels and a couple of buckets we trooped down to the beach. After a few false starts, I found that clams love to taunt you by squirting a jet of water into the air. I basically dug a couple of holes and spend an hour hauling the little buggers out of the ground, espousing my prowess as The Great Clamhunter S.
Tracy was gracious enough to entertain my delusions, but we did manage haul our limit out of the ground in a couple of hours. We also caught a crab, but since neither of us could remember how to tell a male from a female, we let it go!
Lemme tell ya, those clams were freakin' HUGE! A few of my captures we almost as big as my fist! Tracy said she preferred the smaller ones she called "steamers" 'cause they didn't need cleaning.
"Uh...Cleaning?!" I exclaimed.
"Yeah. I'm sure you don't wanna deal with all those guts."
Already, The Clamhunter's enthusiasm was on the wane...
Tracy steamed up a nice sized bowl with wine, garlic and onion. I had a few...there was huge bucket outside with rather huge butter and horse clams innit and frankly, I didn't know when we'd get around to eating them. So I decided that I'd take them back to the beach in the morning and set 'em free.
That night we watched "Pieces of April", "Life or Something Like It" and then I watched a really bad vampire flick that Patty gave me. "Pieces of April" was fucked-up in the way that families are sometimes, but we were both leaking water when it was over. "Life" was a typical chick-flick but it had Angelina Jolie innit, nuff said.
We spent a couple of hours cleaning everything up while pumping house music. I assume the clams I released back into the wild burrowed successfully into the sand, 'cause I didn't see a big flock of seagulls over the spot I'd left them.
Tracy joked that this weekend would make us or break us, but I counted that we spend most weekends together anyway. Why would this one be any different?