We made our annual pilgrimage northward yesterday, to Stillaguamish country. Les had six turkeys going, in a vertical smoker I started calling a "gospador," because it has the same rusted pipe look and is likewise surreal and gorgeous in its own way.
Of course I'm alluding to Gospadors Monument Park on I-5, where Gayle and I (and Wanderer Sarah), took some time to pay our respects. I'll upload a couple pictures when I reconnect with my card reader.
Sarah is happy to be reunited with Bohdi, another four-legged. Elise and the girls made polenta from scratch, grinding the corn in this metal appliance affixed to the kitchen cutting board. Everything seems state of the art around here.