Fish on Fridays is a Rhode Island tradition. Pass by any smallish diner in the state on a Friday and the cloying smell of frying scrod, bought from the fisherman in Galilee, Point Judith, Fall River, or some other place locally, is a given. Go in for a helping and you'll wear the smell on your clothes and in your hair until you wash it out. It's a rare Friday that I miss Fish with friends. "My" diner for the last ten years (I don't know, more.. less...hey.. who's counting) makes a mean baked fish, layer upon layer of sweet white fish with a Ritz cracker and butter topping. Before that, there was another diner that specialized in a "red" fish.. a tomato, mushroom and garlic baked scrod. But always, ALWAYS, the menu starts out the same. FRIED FISH & CHIPS. While I waited last Friday night for my order, I complained to the cook that there wasn't anything left on TV that I was interested in watching after Monday night's 24. Right, I lead an exciting life. No need to elaborate, is there, after all that's NOT the story.
Then Dave (the cook) says to me: "Starting tonight there is."
Me: Oh yeah??? what s that??
Dave: The Doctor.....
Me: What?? Where?? What Channel? I haven't heard about this. That's something!
Dave: 9pm, tonight's the premier and it's a double feature.
DR. WHO! If you don't know about the Doctor, well.... it's not for everyone. It's British, it's silly, it's low budget, and it's science fiction. It's, well okay, it's pretty stupid. If you can't be happy watching actors running around in helmets obviously made from aluminum colanders, this is probably not a show for you. Dr. Who has also been around since the early eighties, probably before that. Considering he's a time lord, long before and well into the future.
Saturday evening there's another new show is running, HUSTLE. It's also from the BBC. C's happy with it too. He's got a new heart throb in the character of Stacie Monroe . This week was another double feature. It's as much a reason as I need to turn on the tube while I knit. Okay, oKAY, so it wasn't a very interesting weekend. I could tell you about the time I spent cleaning the garage and emptying all of those old ball jars full of jams and pickles years and years old that we never got around to finishing. A waste and a shame.
Umm... and then there was the nightly excitement of trapping those Freeking Flying Squirrels in the attic. The problem we have is, they're kind of cute. Soft grey coats, tipped with black, white accents, very large eyes, nocturnal, and very verbal. Someone suggested that rat traps work well.. I bought a $30.00 Hav-a hart. I can't kill them. Luckily, neither can C. I loaded up the traps with sunflower seed coated peanut butter and a bit of apple, he reloads it and talks to them while they watch in between catches. Darn things. They're a pair, we didn't want to separate them. Too sad. Maybe they mate for life, I wouldn't want that on my karma. We let them out in the yard last night, so that they could '*find* one another. They did, and they found their way back in. We've checked out our screen work. It's secure. They must have more than one entrance. The next round ( in desperation), we took the first one caught to the orchard at the end of the street. We're feeling pretty bad about this, the other one is still up there. For now they've been separated. It'll be morning before we take the next one to the orchard. If it gets in the trap, that is. I have a feeling that we need to take them farther away. If so, I'll need a holding cage, I can't do this separation thing again. Freeking bleeding heart, right? Maybe if I could think of them as flying rats. No... too cute. I've got a problem.
And F is for Finish. As in, I Finally Finished the Funnel Neck.
That stretchy yarn really did me in. In spite of it matching the gauge, it is, as C kept pointing out, Form Fitting. I nixed all the other shots as being too graphic for this blog. Maybe some new Foundations..