I have found a lush oasis of primitive greenery in an otherwise gray and barren world. ( I am no botanist; I think it is a fern or something.)
The Midgardian female gets the most unusual things in the post. Looking at this catalog makes me long for glorious battle. Oh, to be contemplating the scattered bones of my foes and not mere “anatomically accurate reproductions!” And if one of the skulls could be Odin’s… (It’d be pretty distinctive, I should think, with that ruined eye socket.)
I feel bloodthirsty and agitated and thwarted and…lonely. My plans for conquest aren’t progressing as well as I’d hoped. Is there any point? Perhaps Midgard is not the place for me? Bah! Enough! I am Loki! I will triumph!
The promised snow apocalypse did not manifest as anything more than a smattering of sleet, a little black ice, and some truly stupid driving. Admittedly, the traffic snarls are amusing… But the real disappointment is finding out that none of the magnificent, fierce creatures pictured here is larger than the point of a pin. Oh, Rotifera, together we could have ruled the world…
I have watched the human Midgardian ordering various items via computer. (Ferns?! With a world of goods and services available, she chooses to order *ferns*?!). Unfortunately, she has not left the machine unattended so that I may purchase weapons, vehicles, explosives, and raiment befitting a god. However, I am given to understand that such purchases may be made using this device and some sort of credit chit. Perhaps I can will her to leave her wallet unattended.