(It's interesting to note that several other people were at the Market yesterday, and the only person I saw that was familiar was the one I went with.)
Leaving, Jeff said "Isn't Elvis around here somewhere?"
"Lenin?"
"Yeah, him, Elvis."
"He's that way." I pointed vaguely off to our right.
"I think he's that way." Jeff pointed to the left. Undecided, we walked up another block, only to find him there. And there he was, sure enough, with a duck on his head. There had been one glued to his foot, too, but someone had whacked off the head so it was just half a duck. When my mom was in town my stepsister and I had been so excited to show them Lenin, but they weren't as impressed.
We headed to Discovery Park where I found a couple of clamshells sitting in a parking spot.
Up the hill and around the corner, we found ourselves overlooking a family having a picnic. A man ran over to the trashcan, yelling in some other language, and I noticed there was a little girl next to it. She had wandered away from the family to relieve herself, but he apparently didn't agree with her.
I don't think I had an opinion either way.
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