Wake up every day on an 80 degree beach, enjoy the never-changing sun and surf. Day after day, for the rest of your life. Sounds like heaven? Not to me, give me the majesty of living on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan.
Ice finally starting to build up along the shore, pushed by strong waves today. An approaching storm that might finally give us some significant snow. Measuring snow in feet, not inches, would be nice before spring comes.
Today we stopped at The Toasted Pickle for lunch.
In the early days of the industrial revolution, a secret society of sandwich artisans existed. It was known as The Order of The Toasted Pickle. This was a group of ambitious and daring rebels who pushed their craft, developing distinct twists on classic sandwich recipes. Tragically, with the advent of the microwave, their recipes were lost in a whirlwind of processed pandemonium.
But now, after all these years, our dedicated culinary craftsmen have unearthed their eclectic mix of edible oddities and savory classics for everyone to enjoy. This isn’t just another “sandwich shop”. No sireee… This is an experience that will put a smile on your face, a hop in your step, and a tingle on your tongue—always served with a pickle on the side! Because as Papa Zeke always used to say, “If you ever find yourself in a pickle, eat your way out.”
Another tiny spot in an eccentric paradise. Filled to overflowing in the summer, but casually accessible the rest of the year. After lunch the air was filled with snow, yet the streets only wet. The concrete of downtown Grand Haven heated from underground. Leaving downtown, suddenly the road is blanketed in snow. It is winter again.