But I have to blog about Amrita. And, I promise I will not insert anymore bi-valve jokes (though I LOVE the 80’s fish song. You youngsters should click for an education about REAL music. Old-timers can reminisce.).
Speaking of reminiscing, I am going to tie two very divergent thoughts together-1970’s Chesapeake Bay, VA and the 2007 Willamette Valley, OR. Bell bottoms meet Gore-tex. What is the common thread?
As a child I'd trek to the mucky flats of the Chesapeake Bay at low tide in search of oysters. Briny. Earthy. Sharp as razors. I’d plod out into the mud flats, the sticky ooze tugging at my Keds. I’d lug back misshapen conglomerates of shells, filling my rusty red wagon with muddy clods of oysters. I'd then head back home, a wagonload of dripping salty brine behind me, and my mom would help me clean the oysters and so we could steam them.
The seaweedy smell of streamed oysters brings me back to my childhood no matter when or where I smell it.
in the top 20 for the
and the 2007 Amrita for being a winner!