Washingtonians are famous for complaining about our rainy weather, so be it, but doesn’t it irk you to have visitors from other states come back with “but gee, if you didn’t have all that wet stuff you wouldn’t have such beautiful green scenery?  Just look at those trees.” Yeah sure, it goes with the web between our toes too — and this year we could possibly say moss.

When I traveled to the British Isles some years ago in May, I found the weather to be just like what I had left back home. It was gray and wet, only the greenery seemed more brilliant in its color. In planning the trip I was warned by friends to take a rain jacket just in case, and I did just that. The only problem was, when the clouds burst at King Henry VIII’s Hampton Palace while we toured the gardens, my new green, hooded rain jacket was in the belly of the bus with 30 other people’s luggage in front of it. Like an idiot I had forgotten to take it out of the bag.  Our tour group was heading to York, from London, and had stopped on the way to sight see.  The bus was locked, the driver was no where to be seen, and the guide was giving his spiel to the rest of the group holding umbrellas and wearing raincoats.

A very thoughtful lady taking pity on the soaked dingbat, loaned me a small red cloth bag to put over my dripping head.  I must have been a comical sight, judging by the smiles people gave when they did double takes while passing me by.  The next day I was sneezing and starting to cough, putting a damper on the trip. My travel companion and sister-in-law Virginia kept filling me with vitamin C and her Immunol capsules, and possibly saved me from a case pneumonia.

In spite of the rain it was a wonderful trip and I am ever so happy I finally had my wish of visiting lands of my ancestors: England, Scotland and Wales. I’m really sorry I didn’t get to visit my Irish side, but it was a question of time.

On this Mother’s Day after church, with our friends Bruce and Gwen Wakeman, we decided every restaurant would most likely be crowded taking mothers to breakfast or lunch, and that we should try someplace different. Since we had read of the new little café, the  Cup of Joy in Hansville, we thought we’d give it a try.  What a wonderful surprise to find it not to be a little hole in the wall but a lovely, warm place to sit back, relax, visit and have a great lunch.

The menu is quite varied and the food is very good.  The staff goes out of their way to give good service. When you order a sandwich, you really get a sandwich, and the fresh baked goodies, well, you’ll just have to try them to see what I mean.

We were so impressed that we asked about having a women’s luncheon of about 15, in the side room.  All one needs to do is call giving them notice and they will be very happy to accommodate.   I have always said I was an Eglonite, but now I’m beginning to think I may be a half-converted Hansvillian. This is the first real restaurant since our friend Frank Randell had the one at the resort when we first came here 53 years ago. He was the then road commissioner and later North Kitsap commissioner.

The Cup of Joy is a cozy place to have a meal or just a cup of coffee on a rainy day, or any day. Try it, you’ll like it.