The last time we bought an actual Chinatown Chinese new Year outfit, we were in Toronto. The Redhead was four and sleeping in Mister Man's arms. She had no idea we were walking Chinatown for an outfit, but she wouldn't have cared either way.
I'll spare you all the details. But you can let the pictures tell you stories. (But I reserve the right to add slight commentary from time to time.) And as you'll notice, it was a fog-free kind of day.
Our GPS, Mallory, claimed we were out in the middle of the bay.
That doesn't look like Sacramento to me.
She doesn't look like a pink lady to me.
The Redhead was quite curious about the shoes.
We found a fun sort of district, but we didn't stay.
Apparently, memories in Chinatown aren't a big seller.
Make sure you drink your Ovaltine.
Still doesn't look like Sacramento.
They were carrying heads. On their heads. Wrapped heads. From decapitated dragons. I was so curious.
A perfectly nice tree. Just dumped by a trash can. Why didn't we go tree shopping here?
And another perfectly nice tree.
We're now officially ready to celebrate the Year of the Horse.
It'd be quite easy to leave your heart there. Unless your heart is The Redhead, of course.
No comments:
Post a Comment