sing along...

Take me out to the ball game,
take me out with the crowd,
buy me some peanuts and Crackerjacks,
I don't care if I never get back.
Let me root, root, root for the home team,
if they don't win, it's a shame.
For it's one, two, three strikes you're out
at the old balllllll gammmmmmme.

 (so very nice to meet one of my Chinese student's mothers who was in Houston for a conference and popped into Seattle for the weekend.  Not sure what this elegant scientist thought of the 40 drunken frat boys in front of us at the ball park, but she gamely gave them high fives after the home run. And I now have a host in Harbin, should I ever jaunt over the Pacific.)

 It was delightfully warm in the late afternoon sunshine; actually think there's a bit of sun burn on my cheeks.

And is there anything better than hot fried things, smothered in fresh garlic?

 My lovely 6th period girls with their new Mariner's shirts and coordinating sunglasses.

Scavenging the rest of my fries.

Variations on speak/see/hear no evil.

The home team won and we got to jump around and scream and cheer.  Then our ferryward way home was graced with this super moon rising.

A truly lovely day.