The Crimson Motherlode

The human female and her mother are fabriholics  fabricholics hoarders of textiles.  They both say that they’re going to make quilts with their “stashes,” but only the mother really manages to complete anything larger than a baby quilt.

Nonetheless, here are the human female, her mother, and her sister, ogling the goods in a local fabric emporium.

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I think Sigyn has found her favorite part of the store…

There are plenty of bolts of printed goods, along with quite a few batiks.

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I am not sure what a “batik” is, but they are apparently a “good thing,” with a “smooth hand”, a “close, fine weave,” and a “faintly exorbitant price.”

Oh, Great Frigga’s garters!  I thought Sigyn was having fun fondling all the cottons, but she’s found something she likes even better.   She is now grombling the minky.

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Sweetie?  Sweetie, let me buy you a yard or two of your own.  The nice people here at the store can’t sell a bolt that has been drooled on…

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Fun For Little Kids–And Big Ones, Part III: This Place Goes on Forever

This place appears to violate the laws of physics–I am sure it is bigger on the inside than the outside would indicate.  (I suspect there is a TARDIS in the basement.)

There is a Noodle Forest, a space in which hundreds of pool noodles are hung from the ceiling, so close together that one can’t see through them.  Moving about in there is like navigating a slowly-waving kelp forest, one with hyperactive toddler-seals that appear from nowhere, ram into one at full speed, and then disappear again.  It’s  more than a little unnerving, but I approve, as I just saw the human female get mightily whacked in the midriff by someone’s hard little head.

Down the hall there is a vast area where youngsters can play at keeping a store—there are a loading dock, cash registers, shopping carts, and an assortment of ersatz foodstuffs.

Sigyn is utterly charmed by the realistic fruits and soft-sculpture baked goods.

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It is a toss-up as to which is sweeter, this pan dulce concha or my own little Sigyn.

So many cans!  Children can learn to read and recognize some common edibles.

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I was starting to think it was lunchtime, but suddenly I am not very hungry anymore.

After lunch and more playtime, it is time to go.  Sigyn and I are exploring the gift shop while all the grand-tots make one last trip to the potty.

Fenrir’s Fleacollar!  Unhand my beloved, you spikey-frilled hellspawn!

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Whew.  Are you all right, my love? That was close!  Lucky for everyone that he only wanted to taste her just a little bit.  For a vegetarian, he looked pretty fierce.  Sigyn is damp but otherwise unscathed.

It has been an interesting day, but I am glad enough to go.   I have left behind a little calling card on one of the napped-plush pillars upstairs.

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The moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on…

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Fun for Little Kids–and Big Ones, Part II: Second and Third Floors

The second floor of this Children’s Museum (which is looking more and more like just a big play place, as there aren’t really any exhibits) is as crazy as the first level, if marginally quieter.

There’s a big, two-sided port-hole like thing, full of all manner of odd bits and pieces.  It’s a sort of  I-Spy game, I guess.

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I hope that corn is fake, or it’s gonna smelllllllll in there before too long!

There’s a room full of blankets and boxes and hangers, where a body can construct the quintessential blanket fort.

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That one’s nicer than the human female’s first apartment.

There’s a sand table.

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Sigyn, my love, this was perhaps the tiniest bit unwise.  You’re going to be finding sand in places where you don’t want sand for days.

There is also a set of intriguing clear and colorful plastic pieces that fit together by means of magnets.  Grandnephew number one is exceedingly diverted and is happily building structures for Sigyn and myself to enjoy.

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Vroom!  This rocket is headed for space!

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You’re right—the view is better from stage two.

Ehehehe!  Sigyn’s little box looks like a sauna!  Is it toasty in there, my love?

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When I build my palace, I shall hire this lad to design part of it.

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It will all be red and green, of course.

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Fun for Little Kids–and Big Ones, Part I: First Floor

We are hitting the ground running today.  The human female, her sister, and her mother have gone over to pick up the sister’s daughter’s four oldest children.  Apparently we are all going to the Children’s Museum.

I’ll let that sink in.  Four kids.  Under ten.  In a van.  In a museumWith a million other kids.  

I don’t “do” kids.

Still, there might be opportunities for mischief.  Small children are very suggestible, and a Children’s Museum sounds like something that would have a lot of moving parts.  Or breakables.  Breakables are good.

Ugh.  The humans are playing some inane automobile game as we progress along the motorway.  “I went on a camping trip, and I took an apple.”  “I went on a camping trip, and I took an apple and a banana.”  “I went on a camping trip, and I took an apple, a banana, and a cat…”  I see how this works.  Each person adds something beginning with the next letter of the alphabet.   It is going to be dogs, eggs, fish, and so on.  Whoever can’t remember the entire burgeoning list is “out.”  There’s a fine balance between trying to remember each item and trying to think up things that everyone else will have difficulty recalling.

Time these children learned just how ridiculous their mother tongue is.  It is my turn now.  My contribution for G is “gnat.”  It will be my turn again when it comes to “K”, and then it will be “knapsack.”  They can also look forward to “pneumatic drill” and “ziggurat.”

Here we are at long last.  While the human female’s sister drives off to park the car, we are supposed to keep the small, squirmy people from running into traffic, falling off the climbables, eating all the lunch, or driving everyone insane by banging all the bangables so thoughtfully worked into the museum’s exterior decor.

Secretly, I suspect the sister is not coming back.

I was wrong.  We are reunited and herded through admission.  Great Frigga’s Hairpins!   This place is ENORMOUS!  The main room is three stories tall and houses an enormous construction of ramps, ropes, crawl-ways, ladders, stairs, nets, what looks like a pirate ship, and yes, that is a flying bathtub.

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Everything is designed with safety in mind–there is no way for a tot to fall through gratings or webbings.  Sigyn, on the other hand, is definitely small enough to be at risk.  Explore with caution, my love!

The noise level is about twenty Midgardian decibels above excruciating.

The view from up top is even more amazing.  Everywhere you look, something has been hung up or glued on or lit up.

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A person could easily lose a tyke or two in here.  Perhaps that is the purpose…  Presumably the Lost and Found is full of unclaimed waifs whose parents are now rejoicing in having a spare bedroom and more (and less sticky) space in the Volvo.

One whole wall is taken up by this amazing contraption.  It’s a series of clear tubes full of blowing air.  One can change the path of the air by means of a system of fan boxes and baffles.  At a couple of points, there are little ports where one can stuff in silk scarves.  The scarves whip around, shoot out one of spouts in in the top, and float

gracefully

down

to be caught and sent round again.

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Sigyn desperately wants to go for a ride in this thing.  Dearest, I beg you not to!  If you got stuck in one of those hairpin turns, I’d have no choice but to blast the thing to smithereens to free you, and I suspect that might frighten the populace.

Let us see what—or who— else is here.  Surely there is something safer.  See!  You can make friends with this… giraffe-oid creature.  You like giraffes!

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Just don’t mention his horrific facial scars.  He’s probably self-conscious about them.

Another wall is one huge sheet of metal, with a hundred or so magnetic gears stuck on.  Let’s put some together, Sigyn, turn the crank, and see if we can get them all moving at once!  Green for me, red for you.

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Speaking of getting things moving, let’s round up the nephews and niecelings (Are there four?  We started with four…) and go see what’s on the second floor.

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Off We Go!

The human female has determined that it is a good time to go visit her sister and her sister’s family somewhere out in the west (waves hand vaguely.)  Their mother, whom I actually like, will also be there.  Sigyn and I have decided to tag along, since the presence of that remarkable woman means that there will probably be some very good food.

We are in the airport of the Somewhat Bigger City to the West, with some time to kill before the flight leaves.  This is still a wild and savage place, home to a rare breed of fierce, long-horned cattle.

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All of whom are putty in Sigyn’s lovely little hands.

There also seems to be an infestation of these strange, gray, hard-plated beasts.

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The armor’s impressive, but they don’t seem to be very bright.

Ah!  They are calling our flight.  We’re off!

Well, the human female has always been a little off, but now we are going on a plane.

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Of Stools and Boxes

The human female recently ordered twenty-four stools for the lab rooms.  The students insist on sitting on them, and some of them are pretty… hefty, so there is a slow but steady attrition.  Prep Staff fixes what they can, but at some point they’re irreparable and have to be taken out and shot.

The order went through nearly without a hitch, though it did involve multiple emails and phone calls to arrange their delivery from Central Receiving and then to the loading dock at the human female’s building.

They’ve just come in and the human female and her staff have hauled them all upstairs.  Some of the boxes arrived rather mashed, but that turned out to be because of the utter dearth of packing material.

All the stools are fine, truly!

Well, mostly.  Look at this.

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The two pieces of the little feet are supposed to be centered on the bottoms of the legs.  They’re put on at the factory by Eddie the Foot Guy.

Eddie, you had one job…

The stools came in twelve huge boxes, two to a box.  That is a lot of cardboard to throw away, and it’s a pity to recycle such fine boxes.  Surely we can find some use for them.

I know!  They can be used for mailing things!  I think I’ll take this opportunity to get rid of some unwanted surplus that has been cluttering up the place

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Hush your squawking, woman!  I’m sure they can use an over-the-hill botanist over there.

Quick!  Bring the strapping tape!  She’s trying to escape!

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Nobody Feels Like Cooking

It’s funny how that happens a lot around here.  Instead of banging about in the kitchen, making something someone (not I!) will have to clean up after, we are trying one of the new eating establishments in town.  The human female says she likes to support local, non-chain businessesI say there’s a reason she had to buy larger undergarments.

There are a number of new eateries just north of the campus.  Parking is a nightmare.  While the human male is grumbling, “Really, City?  You thought the way to encourage new businesses is to install parking meters?!” I am quietly pocketing the kickback I get for suggesting the meters to the City Council.

Well, rats.  The human male has found a free place to park.  (I will just have to steal change out of his pockets.)

The food in this place is a mix of Mediterranean and “healthy” things.

I am not sure what this is.  It is certainly very… fluffy.

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I figure either it is a Paper Salad, or there is a LOT of lettuce on that wrap.

My sweetie sure does love her greens.  I like the color more than the taste of chlorophyllous foliage, so I’ve started in on the flatbread.

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That, at least, I recognize.

I’m still not sure what this is.

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(poke poke poke) Oh.  There we go.  Inside the bread, under the greens, behind the tomato, covered in sauce, is some grilled chicken.  This is a rabbit’s version of a gyro sandwich.   Sigyn is happy.

I think I’d rather eat the rabbit…

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