One thing we like about our traditional trip to the lovely Main Street of Chatham is that with one turn behind the bustling businesses, we find our usual huge parking lot.
This year I noticed the back side of a Public Cafe.
The front end looked fairly spiffy, yes. But we were only at the start of our stroll, and not hungry.
The sight did, however, feed my always-curious state of appreciation for well-chosen words.
Somebody somewhere came up for an interesting idea for a book that really doesn’t need a lot of words, if I take the title and cover art correctly. Why, I oughta …
I lingered over this mug’s promise, but decided not to take it off the shelf because of its limited capacity. A 12-ounce morning helping won’t do it for me. As I’ve declared publicly, I need a coffee cup the size of my head.
For the first time, said Karen, the Duck store was open.
In we went.
So many mallards!
This joint has a duck for every name, profession, town in the Cape and hobby.
I spotted the bowling bird.
But that’s not the one my dear wife Karen picked out for me. I chose a good one for her, too.
Now we own a communications specialist duck and a swimmer duck.
The sharks were still circling the Chatham park.
Hover over a gallery photo for a description. Click on an image for an enlarged slide show.
A walk-through to admire the art led to the conclusion that yes, every year the sharks are different.
Tomorrow: Lobster at the Harbor