Just like in Oz, we caught the Wizard unawares. Sent her on a wild goosechase with her Mr. He referred to me as "Mark" while I apologized for the fact that my husband wanted to eat at a yet nameless spot about a block north of The Market that served chowder.
Oh shoot, it's closed.
Take your nauseated, with-child(ren) wife to the elevator at the north end and turn and head south.
Avoid the homeless man by the pig shouting obscenities and racial slurs at the night guards. We're going to a joint called Ivers that one of said insulted guards recommended.
Nevermind, we don't want to walk that far, just head into the Crab Pot.
"You guys and your directions!" she said as he led her through the stinking restaurant after her 1st restroom break.
And then we were there! She suffered through the smell by breathing scuba style. Some friend I am to let us end up at such an offensive restaurant.
But she made it through dinner and next morning glowed on the couch to recover while we visited D.D.D #3 Voula's
I caught this darling pair in the lobby (aka the parking lot) while we waited for our table. I couldn't resist a baby butt crack. She was cute as can be. Most Seattle babies are because of their hippy heritage. That is if you can find one. They're as illusive as a pregnant woman at a fishhouse.
And then to the beach/park with the whole crew...
We watched a baptism or two. "Hallelujah!" they'd shout upon emerging from the sound.
Chaucer tried to get fresh with Mae. 
Picture #3,987 of Georgia holding a feather.
That night we ate sushi. :)
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