All my little fishes. And their bones.

[desperance]

There is a pub in Nottingham called Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem. It may be the kingdom's oldest surviving inn. It may have been a place where pilgrims met, before or after trekking. These things are not known to me.

What is certain is that it sells good beer to good people, and food also. We had lunch. They brought me whitebait on request.

Filleted.

First catch your whitebait and then, um, fillet it. Apparently.

Good grief.

In other news, I have (as you know) two boy-cats. Also (you didn't know this till now) I have dried anchovies.

I have introduced the one to the other.

I do still have fingers, but barely. These boys snatch.