We ended our day with Duarte's famous cream of artichoke soup. That's pronounced d00-arts, not dwar-teys, fyi. (And I like my pic of their sign better than theirs.)

At least Betty and I had soup. And straight-from-the-oven sourdough bread, oh my goodness. Jeff went for the crab since he felt robbed on Christmas Eve. (We went to Moraga and both of his parents had crab that night).

Jaden went for the ollalaberry jam & pb sandwich followed by a shared slice of ollalaberry pie with Betty. Ollalaberries all around!

Since it takes over an hour to eat crab (why bother?), I kept busy with the camera.

When I took this last photo, a man eating at the counter said, "You must be from the government." I replied without thinking about the meaning of his comment, "No I just like that row of cups and the distressed wood." He proceeded to give me one of the greatest compliments of my life: "You are an artist and photographer with an appreciation for the abstract."

I was practically glowing after that. A perfect stranger calling me an artist because I went behind the counter without asking to take a picture of a row of cups. And here I thought I was a regular Virgo girl who likes orderly rows of things.