Tomales Bay Oyster Fest

This past Sunday we tramped across the Golden Gate and headed up Highway 101 for Point Reyes and the Tomales Bay oyster beds.  A friend of ours was hosting a birthday picnic composed of sun, sand, and several hundred insanely fresh, yet-to-be shucked oysters.  Yes, it was the adult incarnation of the 8 year old birthday party at Chuck-e-Cheese.  If you missed it, you'd be kicking yourself for weeks. 

We made sure not to miss it, though with Mimi in tow, we were a bit late.  Scheduled for 11:00, we crept in to the Tomales Bay Oyster Company site around 11:40 to find the place beyond packed.  It was like half of Marin had come out for some afternoon shucking. 

We started off with 50 "medium" oysters.  I'm afraid the proprietors of the Tomales Bay Oyster Company have confused the adjective "medium" with "mind-blowingly enormous."  I did not complain.  As usual, it was mutually agreed, but never discussed, that I would man the grill.  I don't know why this is so common for me, but it happens all the time, particularly when I'm surrounded by doctors, which I was on Sunday.   Whenever this happens I can't help but picture the doctor group thinking, "That guy's not an MD.  Hmm.  Maybe we can let him light some things on fire.  He'd probably like that."  Lucky for me I'm decent with a BBQ and I enjoy playing with fire (in this rare case literally, not figuratively).  

By the end of the day the group made it through at least 150 oysters.  A good many of these we roasted, but more than half we downed fresh out of the shell.  Good lord they were good.  This is how people who have never had oysters and are afraid to try them should do it.  They'll make a believer of even the most jaded oyster skeptic.

Mimi wasn't that interested in cooking, so as one batch of oysters roasted, Sumie or I would take Mimi out to the edge of the oyster beds, easily accessible thanks to the low tide.       

Mimi's starting to develop some serious mountaineering skills.  Skills, I'm afraid, that don't quite coincide with her lovely (and now nearly destroyed) red patent leather shoes.  

Back from one of our adventures, I was able to catch a wonderful picture of Mimi and her Mama. 

When it came my turn for a pic, Mimi needed some convincing.  She seemed to think the goal was squatting, not picture taking.

Eventually we got the shot.  This may be the only pic I have from the last year in which Mimi and I are both looking at the camera!

After a couple hours of fun and conversation, a couple pounds of shellfish, and a couple if forearms crisply burned (I forgot to sunscreen my arms once again), we started loading up for our trip home.  Mimi, true to form, decided she wasn't filthy enough for her mother's new car.  She made a dash for the water, where she discovered a mud so nastily thick that it simply had to be spread across her hands, legs, and shoes.  Yes, that will make the car seat nice and filthy.  

It was a fantastic day out.  Looking back on it we realized we didn't have any pictures of our friend, Thach-Giao, whose birthday party it was nor the oysters we'd inhaled.  I guess a little of that toddler narcissism is rubbing off on us.  For shame.  Well, I suppose it's not the first time I've been criticized for acting like a two year old...

Self Diagnosis and a Trip to the Seashore

Mimi is finally feeling better.  Hooray!  To be honest, she wasn't down that long - only 3 days - but that's an eternity when you're trapped inside.  Both Mimi and I were getting cabin fever by Friday night.  Mimi had it so bad that she began diagnosing herself.  She started by taking her temperature...

...which she found it to be a bit high.  This required further investigation.  Is it a chest cold?  Flu?  Perhaps a virus?  Mimi decided to check her vitals and give her lungs a listen.

 Unfortunately, she was still stumped.  Oh well.  Perhaps a nice bath would help. 

But that didn't do it either.  On Saturday morning Mimi was still under the weather.  She finally gave up and decided to see her doctor.  Luckily, the doctor was in and she had just the remedy Mimi needed: a 3 hour nap on the couch. 

Full of energy Sunday morning, Mimi let us know she wanted to get out.  "Go!  Go!  Go!" she chanted, pointing down the steps to the front door.  We bundled her up and headed north for Point Reyes. 

Around 1:00 we stopped off at the Hog Island Oyster Farm in Marshall (a bustling town of 50).  The oysters were amazing.  So fresh and sweet.  And the setting was gorgeous.  Next time we go we'll be a bit more adventurous and shuck our own.  We weren't quite ready to try this with Mimi around.  Generally, toddlers and knives don't mix. 

Blissed out on oysters, bread, and cheese, we headed for Drakes Beach.  Mimi, who had been hacking up a lung only 24 hours earlier, insisted on running into the surf.  I suppose she does take after her father in some ways. 

Rescued from the crashing waves, Mimi pointed out the birds as they swooped down from the cliffs above.  "Patta, patta, patta!"    Mimi's bird impersonation had the unfortunate effect of scaring away all birds.  Not the outcome I think she was hoping for. 

Sumie and I are so glad to have our little girl back.  Seeing her so sick, watching her struggle with her cold and cough, that was, by far, the hardest part.  The constant nose-wiping wasn't fun, and the missions for milk at 2:00am were frustrating, but nothing compared to simply seeing my little girl so out of sorts and not being able to do anything about it.  I suppose that when it comes to their kids, the last thing parents ever want to feel is that there's nothing they can do.