hedgiewan | Lopi

Since hearing back in the negative from the job I'd, admittedly, had my hopes up over, I've been a bit under the already record-lows weather. Fortunately, I have a sweater's worth of yarn from Iceland, and am knitting that up- it has both obvious progress, and an implied price tag, making me feel like I'm doing something with value.

But I cannot just sit in the quiet and knit. Especially not when I'm still in the great fields of stockinette. So I've been watching Death in Paradise, a BBC mystery which succumbs to the worst of all mystery tropes. 11 minutes from the end of every episode, there will be an aha moment, followed by sitting all that week's guest characters down while he explains whodunit. Sheesh. BUT! It's set in a fictional island in the Caribbean, three of five major characters are black, the music is excellent, and it has Danny John-Jules. Colonialism is rampant but at least acknowledged. There's an extremely forced love interest that at least seems to be going nowhere. In one episode, the (British) DI knows it must be murder instead of suicide because the deceased left a very nice pot of tea only partially drunk.

Not excellent, but perfect for not paying a lot of attention to.

And I'm almost done with the stockinette.

the hedge abides.