Bus Passes, Bob's Red Mill and Hawthorne

Second Day on my own adventures. First day driving and navigating on my own. Unsolicited opinion on the matter: Totally rocked it. We headed to buy our monthly transit pass from Fred Meyer but they were out of the youth passes at our local store. The clerk and I figured out what store would be on my way to our next stop, 2 interstates and one state highway and zero wrong turns later, we found the Freddies that had the passes we needed to be on our way using public transportation. Next stop: Bob's Red Mill cafe and store. Shopped and ate. Two of my favorite things. Even Bob's had a Vegan menu. (Yup. I came for the food.)


Next stop Hawthorne neighborhood. Supposedly the hipster heaven of the Northwest. (Or Southeast as the quadrants go). Goodwill in a hipster neighborhood means one of two things: killer donations or heavily picked over. The clean, well organized store had a plethora of funky goodness. I found Docs for Romney. His size, beautiful style, fantastic price. I thought I hit the motherlode. That is until Romney took one look at the and nixed them outright!


And the award for most bizarrely wonderful kids' toy ever goes to. . . (drumroll here). . .

Squid tentacle finger puppets. A bargin at $2 a pop.



This funkalicious little fellow greeted us on our walk. He was a hit with Romney, if only this guy could tell Romney to buy and wear those killer shoes. I bet he would have listened to the skeleton-in-the-top-hat-and-boa's advice.



Everyone's favorite stop on this tour of the eclectic Southeast neighborhood- a junk shop with every imaginable piece of retro-abilia known to man/woman/ or child-kind. Romney learned what a type writer is and typed his name over and over again in wonder and awe.



My favorite photo of all time was taken in the bathroom of said establishment. Romney asked with hesitation about what the object on the left was. I told him it was plastic joke poop. He told me to touch it to make sure. I told him to touch it to make sure. Neither one of us was willing to test our theory. If ever a bathroom was in need of Spic and Span. . .



William ditched Romney (Who I shadowed so stuff didn't mysteriously fall to the ground to meet it's untimely death decades after it had past it prime of usefulness or disintegrate under his magic fingertips of destruction) and I to roam freely through the labyrinth of crap. He found all kinds of goodies-- giant skulls, old comic books, piles (yup, piles) of accordions. After strolling through several eras of Americana history, we found our way (Again, gotta say, pretty impressive with a GPS) back home to Bill for our evening of family fun.