Slopping in the mud for sensational shellfish

15 May 2003

We had Tom Sawyer summers. My brother, cousins and I would run wild around Lilliwaup, population 600, some 15 minutes north of Shelton on Hood Canal. We’d spook ourselves silly at the tiny ancient graveyard tucked away in the wooded hills, swearing we felt the presence of ancestral spirits. We’d splash around Lilliwaup Creek while our dads, decked in hip-waders, fished for trout and kept telling us either to be quiet or go away.

Most of all, we had lots of uninterrupted time to build alliances and develop exquisite methods of torturing each other, without adult interference. Until it came time to eat.
(Read on …)

15 May 2003 comment