Screech and Fi' and Chi

Okay. I am seriously sorry for the lag in posting and I'm hell bent to try and make up for it over the next couple of days!! I can only say that it's been another busy week, as we begin a full season of audio description. That involves seeing a play 3 times before actually describing it for blind and visually impaired theatre patrons. Not to mention that the BBQ Club is officially back in session (and it all started with an email from Vanessa that said "I missket your brisket"). PLUS, we had to have a night out with Annie and Lara, after spending a day re-organizing our living room and bedroom!!

Now, let me take you back to 2 days before the wedding. After we finished the Baking of the Caking, we invited all the mainlanders, and a handful of Newfoundlanders too, for a big ol' scoff at Ches's Fish and Chips. We wanted to share the starchy, fatty love that can only be found in an order of fish and chips with dressing and gravy. The other reason we wanted folks to eat up, is that we'd planned a pub crawl immediately following supper. And NOTHING is more important than lining one's stomach with before consuming vats of alcohol!! It's kind of like a carbo-loading before a marathon.....

When the plates of steaming fi' and chi' were laid in front of our guests, some folks were suspicious at first, but it only took one bite to convince them.

We DID have to dabble in a few contests as we waited for all of our friends to be served. (Note that Lara is actually thumbing through a book of Newfoundland trivia in search of an answer to a question!)

And then it was off to Trapper John's for a special treat. We'd arranged for everyone to become an honorary Newfoundlander and this lofty status is only achieved through one simple thing: being screeched in. Screech is a demerara rum. Legend has it that, back in the day, this Jamaican rum was 100 proof (i.e. the work of the devil). Apparently, a visiting commanding officer was offered rum after dinner. As everyone seemed to be drinking the rum without grimacing, he decided he would follow suit, and let out an ungodly howl in the process. The scream was so dang loud, that people ran to his aid. When asked "what was that ungodly screech?", the officer replied "The screech? 'Tis the rum, me son."

To be screeched in means you are on the fast track to becoming a Newfoundlander, so we'd booked a big screech in for 40 fearless mainlanders. Here's what transpired.

The spectators were ready for a laugh and a half. See how Michele, the Mums and Paully are quite relaxed.

Lois is the embodiment of cool. And cute.

It was even "matching shirts night"! (Some of us didn't get the memo)

And then it was all "okay folks - start your engines", as the lovely dark liquid was poured into shot glasses.

The crowds waited restlessly.

Some of them seemed downright scared!

Ashton Kutcher stepped up to the plate. (Okay. It wasn't really Ashton, but he sort of looked like Ashton in a coon skin hat...) When someone wondered aloud "what would we have to do to get that hat from him?", Doodie responded "I dunno, but I'll do it twice!"

Now HERE'S an order of somethin'-somethin' (starts with "t" and rhymes with rubble).

Dennis goes nose to nose with his opponent.

The crowd does the "call and response." Our leader teaches them to answer the question: Is ye a Newfoundlander????? To which they must respond, "Indeed I is me ol' cock and long may your big jib draw."

And then, it's bottoms up! Anchors A Weigh!! And for a moment, everything went a little like this:

(Though Poot looks strangely refreshed.)

Normally, when one is screeched in, you have to kiss a cod fish. Lucky for our friends, they were clean out of whole cod fishes at Trapper John's, so instead, everyone had to kiss the arse of a Puffin (the bird of Newfoundland). (I'm not kidding you.)

But I think Brian's expression sums it up perfectly....