Macro Monday Spring at Pike Place

Pike Place

One can’t think about Pike Street in Seattle without thinking about Pike Place Market.  And one can’t think about Pike Place Market without thinking about Pike Place Fish Co.  Pike Place Fish Co. is the rockin’est place in Pike Street Market.  Walk up to the counter, order a fish, and watch what happens.  These are the guys with the flying fish philosophy.  They’ll sell you the freshest fish in town and give you a belly laugh in the process as your fish makes its airborne way from the back of the store to the counter for your approval, and then airborne again as it returns to the counter for wrapping.

Pike Place Fish Co

Pike Place Fish Co.

I am sorry I didn’t get any actual flying fish photos. It is just too fast and crazy. You’ve got to go and watch it with your own eyes. And a heads up: if you are going to try to snap photos, make sure the girl with the blue jean jacket and the pink bubble gum hair isn’t around because she’ll step in front of the camera every time!

As Linda of Mocha With Linda mentioned recently in the comments of one of my posts, Pike Place Market is also famous for its fresh flowers — and not just the ones lining the roof on both sides of the street.

The Street

Pike Street

The flower stalls take up a whole block and the colors are dazzling.



Many of these flowers are grown locally and they don’t come much fresher unless you go to the fields and purchase them there.



There are also huge planters out and about filled with blooms. The day Amoeba and I were in Seattle there were intermittent showers. We did our outside walking inbetween the drizzles.

Pink & Perky

Pretty in Wet Pink

As you can see, the rain provides compensations.


Freshly Showered & Ready to Shine

We had a great day. We went into the Spice store and bought a couple of specialty teas, and we found a little Asian Market where we bought all the sauces and spices I learned to love in Hawaii. The store was small and cramped and I didn’t want to go in, but Amoeba insisted and once I saw what was inside he wasn’t so sure I was coming back out!

Stay tuned, there’s more.

My Body Has Arrived in Friday Harbor

My brains haven’t yet adjusted to their new time zone.

I flew out of Hawaii on Northwest Airlines.  They weighed my bag — they have a 50 pound  limit — and it came in at 52 pounds.  I was told I would have to pay $90.00 extra for the overage.  Mind you, had I put all my stuff in two bags, rather than just the one, I would have only had to pay $15.00 per bag.  So what if two bags would actually take up more room and ultimately weigh even more than 52 pounds.  This isn’t about logic, it’s about rules, regulations, and making a profit.

The bossy helpful enforcer courtesy agent told me that instead of paying, I could just remove two pound of my possessions and leave them behind.  I stared at her in disbelief.  She then said, “If that option doesn’t appeal to you, you can always put on 2 pounds of clothing.”

So, mind you, it is not the weight going on the airplane that is the issue.   It is where the weight is distributed.  I opened up my suitcase and removed my coat — which I put on — and my camera.  We reweighed the bag and it came in at 49.5 pounds.  She didn’t offer me a 45 cent refund for coming in 1.5 pounds under weight. (see comments, Melli corrected my math — see also my first sentence above)

I went to the lounge and waited two hours for my flight, not noticing until just before boarding time that my ticket had no seat assignment.  I went to the ticket counter and told the attendant I hadn’t been assigned a seat.  He told me that it didn’t matter, that the only people with assigned seats had paid extra for the privilege. I believed him.

When general boarding was called, I got in line.  The attendant who took my ticket said, “You have to go back and get a seat assignment!”  I told her that I’d asked for a seat assignment, and was told I didn’t need one.  She sent me back to the check-in desk.  I gave my ticket to the guy who told me I didn’t need a seat assignment and said, “Let’s try this again.  I need a seat assignment.”  He said, “Fine.  I’ll see what’s left.”  Then he assigned me to a middle seat — and suggested I might want to upgrade to First Class for an extra $250.00.  I asked him if my middle seat in the center of coach was going to the same place as first class.  The guy behind me laughed, but the ticket agent just gave me a sour look and my cramped seating assignment.

I landed in Seattle at 5:30 a.m. PDST.  That was equavalent to 2:30 a.m. Hawaii time.  I got very little sleep on the plane, crunched in the middle the way I was.  Still, I’d made it to Seattle, so all was well …

The help desk in SeaTac airport was deserted.  I guess one isn’t supposed to need help at 5:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning.   I found one employee who tried to hail me a cab, when that is not what I asked for.  I wanted to know where to catch the shuttle bus to the Kenmore Air terminal.  No one I asked knew.  There were no helpful signs pointing the way.

I called Amoeba on the phone.  He said, “Kenmore Air pick-up is at terminal door 00.  Head south from where you are…”

“South!?  I have no idea where I am or what direction I’m going.  Not only are there no signs directing me to door 00, there are no signs that read North, South, East , or West!”  A bit of logic backed up by seek-and-find helped me figure out where I was and where I should be.  The baggage carousels and the terminal doors share the same numbers.  Door 00 — the last door (or the first door) in the terminal — has no baggage carousel.  However it did have a help desk for charter air services.  Kenmore Air was listed prominently on the wall.

Despite the fact that I was exhausted and hadn’t eaten since 2:00 p.m. the previous afternoon (NWA did give me a few ounces of water and a bag of peanuts), my flight with Kenmore Air was wonderful and stress free.  I took photos so be sure to look for them after Punny Monday tomorrow.

Right now I am just too tired to fuss with photos.