Years ago the most famous fish restaurant in the region went out of business. We went to its sale, and bought some soup cups. They are probably the same brand as the ones we used in the diner where I used to work, so I had to have them.
Years later, I wish we'd bought more of them. I've been looking at ebay, and etsy and Google, and discovered that there was a nearby beach where the company that made the cups threw out their seconds. Mrguy took me there today because I needed to put some new things into my eyeballs and because I looked at the tide schedule and saw that it would be low tide in 20 minutes.
The day was gorgeous.
The birds were unimpressed with us. There were seagulls, pelicans and some sort of rail or other shore bird with a ridiculous and handy) curved beak.
At first glance the beach looked regular, albeit green.
On closer inspection it looked a bit like dead fish, until you figured out that these were old plates. If you moved them you'd dislodge a crab or other little friend.
I wish I had a blue soup cup like that. So cool.
Most of the china is tan or white, but occasionally you'll see a pop of color or a bit of a pattern.
After walking the beach and smelling the warming seaweed (as well as hearing the sounds of the nearby racetrack), we were ready to head home. I wanted to feel the water on my toes so I stepped closer to the incoming inch-high waves. And then I sank up to my ankle in mud (in the photo you can start to see my left foot go). I felt like I was in an episode of Gilligan's Island, where he's stuck in quicksand. I *almost* had to give up my sandal in order to free myself, but I finally pulled it together (literally, figuratively) and returned to terra firma.
Then we went to the British-German deli and celebrated our spontaneity with sandwiches.
So ends a quick but awesome adventure.