When we lived in Seattle, I told my husband I would willingly join the crowd pensioned off in Sequim, the retiree capital of the Pacific Northwest. Now, I know exactly where I plan to do it. Three Crabs Road. Or possibly Old Crab Road. That would be more applicable, though it's technically on San Juan Island, not the Olympic Peninsula.
The people of Washington's northwestern corner know how to name things. Dick's Kitchen Road. Bytha Way. Yellow Brick Road. Itsa Creek, Thatsa Creek. And then Three Crabs Road. I've never returned from a trip and filled four photo pages with road signs, some intentionally humorous, some not.
Not only does the place's climate and flora agree with me, but anywhere with this kind of tongue-in-cheek imagination begs for the retirement years of a writer.
Now I just need a couple more crabs willing to live with me . . .