Oregon rain is the reason that Oregonians do not carry umbrellas. I am not talking about a downpour that you wait out, one eye on the window. O This is a steady and continuous pitter patter of drops that, like Oregonians, is in no particular hurry. The air is wet, the ground is wet. You will get wet. Put up an umbrella and see.
Astoria is no exception to the law that is Oregon Rain. It did rain, and I did get wet, leaving me in my red wool coat, with the faint odor of wet dog. Was I deterred? No, I was not!
I was rewarded with breakfast. The Blue Scorcher is my officially my favorite place in Astoria.
Can you see why? Look at the gorgeous yellow wall behind the purple ornamental oregano.
There were other gorgeous colors. Eggshell blue and brick red.
Sage, maroon, and pale yellow.
Oregon rain does not so much stop, as it does meander away. It did, for about an hour. I followed the sunshine all the way to the top.
Then I got to look down. Fabulous.
The I walked back down again.
The rain wandered back, and it brought its friend the wind. Was I deterred? Yes, a little. But then I went back and had soup.
And the next day the sun came out and scared off the rain. The wind is older and harder to scare.
Practically every house in Astoria is absolutely gorgeous. I think that it must be a rule. I think that the man who wrote the rule was Captain Flavel, and then being against hypocrisy, he built himself the most gorgeous house. Ever. They call it the Flavel House.
It is pretty nice inside too.
I got a lot of pictures, but these were the only ones that did the place justice.
Just in case you haven't gotten the picture, I really like old things. The older, and more broken down, the more I usually like them. Wait 'til they have a little rust, some moss for color, perfect.