Driving through the Palouse in March

(not to be confused with Fishing on the Susquehanna in July)

A few weekends ago, we drove to Pullman to visit friends and play games.

We followed the smell of snow all the way there and, I might mention, stopped at the oldest rest stop in the state of Washington. We also saw a sign that indicated the number of miles to Albion, and like the play-on-word-dorks we apparently are, I said "Albion my way!" while Joel simultaneously said, "Albionest..." Get it? I know. Them's the Palouse driving highlights.

What more could you ask for when you arrive in a quaint college town than a nice roasted chicken dinner prepared by Crystal and Patches and accompanied by a big bottle o' wine? Or a nice slide down the hill afterward to Rico's?

Rico's is a nice little joint in Pullman, and I could rave here for awhile about their popcorn and how they perfected the oil-to-salt ratio, but the highlight here was really the pool table unavailability. But the boys challenged a party of 3 to a game in order to just get a table, then narrowly lost (as I recall), which ended up being okay, because said party was amenable to another game with all of us. The best part is that right below your feet is a quartet playing jazzy numbers (just try not to jump around because it could be quite unnerving for those musicians).

 

How late, oh, how late did we stay up playing Rock Band back at Crystal and Patches' place? All I can say is that we switched to Daylight Savings that night and it did not work in our favor. Neither did the microphone when I tried out the vocals.

 

It was also on this evening that I came to the conclusion that when I have to survive my next winter, I want a fireplace filled with crackles and pops to lull me to sleep on a regular basis. That was nice. But even nicer are my precious Pullman pals. Hugs.