Fish and visitors ~ but not *this* time

You remember what Ben Franklin said, that fish and visitors both smell after three days? Well, I’m pleased to report that there was nothing fishy about last weekend’s guest. Sooz and I have been e-friends for about a year and a half. She’s a writer; I’m a writer. She’s LDS; so am I. She’s navigated the singles program of the church more than once. So have [am] I.



She flew in on Friday night, greeting me with “Aloha” and a hug and a lei and a peck on the cheek. It’s such a treat to meet someone you’ve “known” for awhile and to find out that they are even better in person than on paper.

They hadn’t exactly fed Sooz on the second lap of her flight. LittleBit and I hadn’t exactly eaten dinner. So we unloaded the car and zipped on out for some fast food. She joined us for family prayers, then LittleBit went to bed, and we proceeded to inflate the airbed and make a nest for Sooz. I was flat amazed to look at the clock and see that it was 12:40. About four hours past my optimal bedtime. That’s how much fun we were having, sharing stories and laughing.

Saturday morning I made a run to the kolache shop for some of those cinnamon rolls. [Almost a religious experience, I do declare.] More talking and laughing until it was time for us to head over to my favorite TexMex restaurant for lunch. And since we had dawdled the morning away, and the only place to get a rental car was back at the airport, I drove her about an hour west of Fort Worth to meet up with the bride-to-be and her family.

I hung out by the town square, near the police station, figuring that was the safest place for a maiden lady like me to hunker down with a novel and a bag full of knitting. Sat in the car, quietly entertaining myself, until my cell phone rang to come get Sooz. The only “incident” was when I became aware that a pickup truck had pulled into the parking lot where I’d backed in, and the driver was staring at me. Or possibly glaring at me? I just gave him the patented “wife look”, and he put his truck in gear and got the heck out of Dodge!

We stopped at Sonic on the way out of town to refuel. It had been a long, dusty afternoon since we’d feasted at lunchtime. When we got home, I threw on my dancing clothes, and she drove us to the dance on the northeast side of BigD. Our regular DJ has taken a new job, one which unfortunately renders him unavailable during dancing hours. So Brother Sushi did the honors. Sooz visited with my friends and did the big “group dance” thing we often do to fast songs. There are never enough men to go around, so the sisters all get up and boogie in a circle.

No, we don't have any pictures of that. But I'm happy to report that I danced three or four line dances without blowing out my knee, and I merengue'd without mishap. I taught Sooz the only line dance I know. We were hoping that Brother Sushi would play Tiny Bubbles, and she would teach me to hula, but he ran out of time before he ran out of songs.

For you diehards, some knitting content: This is my first toe-up heel flap, on my Jitterbug socks.



And this is its mate, ready for its heel flap:



I have finished the back/hood of the hoodie and have cast on the exceedingly plain side panels. Will save those photos for another day.

Brother Sushi grew up in Hawaii. He told me some time back that each time he leaves, he goes to the shore and flings his lei out to sea. Tradition has it that if it comes back to shore, you will return to the islands.

I put my own spin on that tonight. I had worn the lei to work, and after spending most of the weekend in the fridge it was looking a mite triste. So I drove to Lake Arlington and walked out on the causeway by the boat ramp, and I threw my lei out into the lake.

Sooz, come back soon, y'hear? [That's Texan for “aloha”!]