These photos are from a pre-Christmas jaunt over to Gwynn's Island.
A few summers ago, my father (who drives a seafood truck part-time for the owner of the seafood processing plant here) arranged for the Chesapeake Bay Children and I to take a tour of the crab processing area. Employees hand-pick crab meat in a refrigerated building lit only with black lights, which helps them see the crab meat (vs. the shell). I remember thinking to myself what a hard way to earn a living that must be, standing on your feet all day long in a cold, dark room. I also remember being amazed by the huge vats of steamed crabs on the porch.
It's a pretty impressive operation.
Last night Chesapeake Bay Son, Daughter and I went next door for a quick visit with my parents, who talked about their day trip to Harrisonburg, Virginia, delivering oysters to a restaurant there on behalf of J&W Seafood, my father's employer. I certainly hope my mother writes a blog post on that experience, because the little bit she told us about their adventure was very entertaining. The thought of the two of them traveling over 400 miles in one day trapped in a seafood truck is humorous enough, but she can take that foundation and weave it into a masterpiece.
Getting back to the topic, however, Island Seafood is a little shop (not visible above but very close to everything pictured) that sells fish, crabs, etc. in season. They're closed during the winter, I believe, but it is a nice place to visit if you happen to be in the area during the warmer months. The very friendly lady who works there is the mother of my high school basketball teammate. I saw her (the mother) recently in Walmutant, and she hadn't aged one day since she sat in the stands 30 years ago.
Living and working on Gwynn's Island seems to have agreed with her. Very much so.
Speaking of living and working, I have to return to work on Tuesday, and, while I am extremely grateful for all this time off, and very grateful to have a job to return to, I can't help but dread
One day, perhaps.
One day.
