Crab Pickin' Newcomers

We were recently invited to our new friends' house for a

feast of blue crabs fresh from Put in Creek. 

 The crabs were gutted and boiled,

then beaten with mallets and crushed with metal nut crackers on the dining room table.

It's a rather messy process.

Chuck and I, not being well versed in crab eating, had to be instructed. 

I feel SO "from here" now. 

That's what the locals call the people who are, well, from here.

And no, I don't actually feel like I'm in that club. I's jest kiddin'.

That was real apparent the day I went in the hardware store and asked for a hosepipe. 

Apparently, they don't do hosepipes around here. I was almost directed to the plumbing section.

This "from here" group is very exclusive. 

The members of my family are considered "come heres".

Cheechako no more!

We have a NEW label. 

Really? really? 

Naw, I think it is cool that people have so much pride in where they come from that they slap a label on all the new folks....as if we don't feel conspicuous enough. 

But no. It's fun. Kinda.

Put in Creek: The waters from which the crab were caught.

I cannot wait to get a crab pot of our own. 

Apparently, Chuck enjoys catching prized meats.

Goose, ducks, salmon, and soon we'll have our own crabs!

Just call me a connoisseur of fine meats.

Or a come here.

Or a Cheechako.

Whatever.