Disclaimer: I don't recall all the names of these places. Think of it as an album of "Ooooh, pretty!" rather than an educational tour of San Diego.
Flying over the World's Biggest Catbox (WBC).
Geometrical farms planted in the WBC.
Huichol and Tepehuano "yarn painting", pictures made with colored thread.
After a short nap in our roomy Jetta, we walked around The Cove.
"Please step back from the seals!" the Seal Lady pleads into her megaphone.
"You have no authority here!" shrieks a local woman.
"How rude!" I thought to myself. But then I realized that if I lived here, and could not be the Seal Lady, I would probably heckle the Seal Lady, just for something to do.
Armed with only my sunglasses case, we walked to the Pier. Along the way, a seagull poo'ed on my shoulder and my boob! Since I'd left my purse in the car, I had no tissues. I had wipees in the van, but that was in WV. Without even looking, I knew there was one piece of paper in my sunglasses case, but I refused to use it. I needed to scrape the poo off. Frantically, I looked around for something, anything I might use. There were no leaves, no rocks, no seashells in sight. I could feel the poo soaking into my shirt and touching my skin. In a moment of desperation, I opened my sunglasses case and removed my HP7 movie ticket and used it to scrape seagull poo off my shirt. I could hear Dumbledore rolling in his grave.
Looking back to shore, mourning the loss of my ticket.
Obviously, the beauty of the sunset was sullied by my poo experience.
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so which would you rather have in the long run, dog poo you can see and step over or gull poo, unpredictable and seepy never knowing when where and how goopy it will be, where it will be dropping to, in your hair, the side of your face, on your brand new purse, your french fries. they love french fries!!
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