If there's one thing we've mastered here in Seattle, it's the art of the evening picnic.
There are only about forty gazillion stunningly beautiful places to lay out a blanket, grab a bench or sprawl out on the grass.
The best part: 99 percent of these places are in our neighborhood.
We are officially ruined forever.
Just east of Kerry Park on Highland Drive is a little overlook called Marshall Park.
It's really just a patch of grass with a few benches, but there are few places that offer a better view of the northwest side of Elliott Bay and Magnolia.
It also seems to be the place where the people of Queen Anne (and their dogs) congregate on summer evenings.
It is lovely.
I had to include the picture of Lola with the baby corn thing.
She insisted I put one in my salad for her -- despite our well-meaning protests -- and refused to admit that it was the nastiest thing she'd ever tasted.
What is with those things?
Cruelest food ever.
Parsons Gardens are right across the street and provided Lola the perfect setting to "dance in the school ballet."
I think we need to get this girl enrolled in a dance class, stat.
I know nothing about this -- I was kicked out of the one dance class I ever took after about two weeks because I couldn't keep a straight face and kept falling over my own feet.
Stereotypical tomboy, right here.
No really, I wore a 49ers hat every day from ages 8 to 11.
It paired quite nicely with my Steve Young jersey.
I am the queen of tangents.
I've never been much of an outdoorsy girl.
Me + camping = hives.
But I'm here to say, Seattle has served as the perfect setting for the budding love story between Jessica Maria Ivins and Mother Nature.