Last Saturday we ventured to Seneca about an hour drive north of Burns with our friends Kate and Ron for their annual oyster feed. The oysters came fried or steamed. They were huge and succulent and delicious. We all overate to bursting. Maybe an oyster feed shouldn't be all you can eat. The weather was cold, sky cloudy, the Strawberries loomed snow covered in the north, the wind was blowing, but fresh oysters from the Washington coast can't be beat. We even found a few treasures at the yard sales in town. Photos are John sucking down a steamed oyster; Kate, Ron and John waiting in line; frying oysters, steaming oysters; oysters ready to fry.
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