Today I returned to the Pike Place Market for a closer look.
The Pike Place Fish Market was first opened in 1930, and has become a legend both within and without the market. This notoriety happened after nearing bankruptcy in 1986, when the owner decided that the only way to save the business was to become "world famous." And so, as many as 10,000 visitors a day come to the Fish Market to watch the fishmongers throwing fish that customers have purchased, from the far end about twenty-five feet to the cashier, where they are caught by another fish guy carrying open newsprint in his arms, to catch the goods and quickly wrap it.
The above simply isn't the same as seeing it, so we found this 2008 video. Calamari, anyone?
I was ready to purchase one of their dried smoked salmon boxes, when one of the staff recommended I go down to "Yuri" at the other end and try the real thing. It was good alright, but the smoked variety with pepper and garlic seasoning was even better. So I had them shrink a one-pound piece of one of those puppies for dinner tonight.
Then I went down to one of the produce markets, where it happens that a number of laid-off game developers and programmers were moonlighting. While talking shop on behalf of Paul, I picked up a pound of cherry-sized potatoes in three different colors; I have no idea what they're actually called.
I rummaged through Capitol Hill for awhile, stopping at a favorite thrift store and finding nothing, including my reading glasses which I always kept in that one special pocket. (Grrrr!) On the way to catching the bus, I found an Enterprise car rental outlet. This should save me some trouble, I thought. But like most people, I carry my official proof of insurance in my car, not on my person. They wouldn't even call my agent to verify it. That was odd, since my carrier does business with that company. It cost me an addition to my deposit, which I'll get back anyway. But I drove away with a Toyota Corolla (which has a good history in my family, if not with me personally), ready for the trip to Mount Rainier tomorrow.
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Today, all of Christendom, both East and West, celebrates the Feast of Saint Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr, and the patron saint of yours truly. We found this poem to mark the occasion.
Today is the feast of Saint Larry
who towards death did not tarry
in his memory we grill
and merrily trill
"it's done on that side" as was Saint Larry!
Tomorrow's the feast of Saint Clare
who led a life quite austere
by Saint Francis sent
to found a convent
of simplicity exceedingly rare.
August is a Marian time
The Assumption a feast sublime
Saint Bernard praised her deeds
and Saint Dom prayed her beads
and Saint Max ... wait, I've run out of rhyme.
(H/T to Kate at Peace and Pekoe. Adapted for the present circumstances without permission or shame.)
Now be sure and go outside tonight, if it's a clear night, and watch the remainder of "Saint Lawrence's tears" in the form of a meteor shower.
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By now you've all heard of Secretary of State Hilary Clinton's night on the town in Colombia earlier this year. Well, she's taking it to the next level in South Africa.
Brace yourselves, 'cuz here it is, your Moment of Whimsy.
By the way, the salmon was to die for!