The universe hates me and wants me to die young. This is clear, because they have allowed an establishment called Sweetie Fry to open down the street from us. It started out as an ice cream and french fry place, which was quite dangerous enough. But now…now they’ve added a new and even more horrifyingly tempting item to their repertoire.
Have you heard of funnel cake fries? No. I hadn’t either. I knew about funnel cakes. And I knew about french fries. But I never knew about extruding funnel cake batter into french fry shaped pieces, dousing the whole thing in cinnamon and powdered sugar, and selling them to innocent bystanders. But the folks at Sweetie Fry did. Damn their cholesterol-drenched souls. When I drop dead of a heart attack at 34, we’ll know who to blame. But at least I’ll die happy.
And in knitting related news, today marked the ceremonial ‘first full load of socks’ washing machine event. During the summer we don’t go through woolly socks fast enough to fill an entire washer full (so I toss in other things that need special laundering to fill it up) . But now that it’s chilly, we’re accumulating them quick enough to give them their own unaccompanied trip through the washer. Which of course means trying to find spaces to hang several dozen pairs of socks to dry at once. Our basement looks a little funny.