Stitchery Witchery and Holy at Ho-Jos

   I'm always concerned when my baldy scalp is exposed to the sun.  So when I realized I was walking in Greater Miami's Hialeah heat with my pate unprotected, I entered a mall in search of a cap.  And there was a vendor at a kiosk-type stand, selling the baseball style chapeau I needed.  I was pleased to notice that he had a substantial supply of plain caps, unadorned.  The shingle signage of his establishment--"Stitch By Stitch"--did not register with me.  Selecting a white cap, I was ready to effect a quick transaction when I noticed a  catalog of images which included various dog breeds.  I said, "Whoa, let's see if you've got the best of breeds, not expecting to find Saints.  But the image was there, the inimitable formidable head, nobly cast.  The merchant, an enterprising gentleman from Turkey, explained to me that he does not transfer decals to the front of the headpiece but stitches in the image.  Of course, he doesn't do the stitching by hand.  He directs the process by computer which has an embroidery machine connected to it.  It takes a little time but it's fascinating to watch.  There are spools of thread of different colors that it draws down into the fabric.  People passing by stopped to take note.  The merchant-operator had to tend to a lot of detail, adjustments and angles while the production proceeded.  I was pleased with this result.

   Not especially expensive either.  About $28.  Since I just happened to be wearing an Illinois Saint Bernard Rescue polo, the cap capped my ensemble.

   In the evening we went to Mass at a Howard Johnson's.  The Irish cruise crowd is residing here prior to embarking tomorrow.  A priest who is actually one of the entertainers (concertina and singer), slated to perform on the ship, celebrated a Mass in one of the conference rooms at the hotel.  Well attended by mick mackerel-snappers.  Father Charlie Coen, explaining there was no "h" in his last name, quipped:  "If there were, I would have had to become a rabbi."  

  So now all of us, the blessed and the benighted, are eagerly awaiting sailing off tomorrow, Sunday.  We are assured the captain of the Norwegian Pearl bears no relation or comparison to the infamous "Chicken of the Sea" skipper who wrecked Carnival's Costa Concordia.  The only irresponsible behavior will take place among the rapscallion Celtic cavorters. 

   By the way, if you're wondering what thematic connection exists between the first anecdote of this post and the second, the answer is there is none.  That's what happens when you blog "live."