F*cking Sparkly Vampires -
We caught the ferry to Port Angeles and I noted that, indeed, it was overcast.
We (Morag and I) were horrified to discover this shop. You can't see inside, but a great deal of it was devoted to a certain whiny stalker.
We drove about 5 miles off the highway and had our lunch by a little cottage. Morag's mum had packed the lunch for us and wrapped the sandwiches in waxed paper.
It was still and quiet and the trees were tall and very silent.
Some guy brought his new bride here a couple of hundred years ago (I can't remember details... this is why I should always write things down) when it was newly built. I can't even imagine.