Monterey and Pancakes

I tried my best to get a photo of Hartwell and the Cannery Row sign. Magic hour was not so very magic for me. But this pose was so hilarious, I had to post a blurry photo. Is he a teapot? An Egyptian?

We stayed at a friendly little cottage-style motor lodge in Pacific Grove. We had limited resources with Barkley traveling with us. It was nice enough, but we were a bit loud for the place. I was accosted in the parking lot at ten by an old man who I can only describe as the bad guy in a Scooby Doo cartoon. He had that "haunted amusement park owner" look to him. He could hear my kids jumping. They'd been in the car all day! Don't worry, I gave him the what for. You cannot approach a woman in a parking lot late at night and not get the Waternoose Jump and Growl. Or whatever.

The next morning, we slept in and John took Barkley on a loooong walk:
When we finally woke up, we went to this place for breakfast:
They allowed dogs and gave us a squirt bottle to squirt the pigeons. What the WHAT?!

John ate this:
I swear they were ten inches across. I had to make him stop eating so he didn't fall asleep on the drive.

The rest of the drive into Sacramento I spent asking John what people did for a living in every town we drove through. He was sick of me after Castroville. Castroville,...mmmmm,...artichokes...

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