We did have a large Thanksgiving feast with family. We all had to say what we were thankful for. I was thankful that we were not having dinner with my family.
Afterwards, Sigyn and I took a stroll in the garden to help walk off the meal. Sigyn, no flower is as fair as you.
The next day, we found we were still mostly full from the previous day’ feast. For breakfast, the human female herself could manage only a bit of toast with (red) jam, some (red) juice, and some (reddish) fruit-clabbered milk. (Bleargh.)
Her tendency to color-coordinate her meals baffles me.
I have learned that this holiday is also very much about family, and about reaching out to loved ones who are far away.
This is the human female’s beloved Aunt, who lives thousands of miles distant.
I have made a few improvements.
Mise en place is all important. Be sure to assemble your ingredients before beginning.
(Don’t you just hate it when you light up the stove and there’s an odd, burning smell and you can’t tell whether there’s something in the stove or something wrong with the food and you have to stop what you’re doing and take the pot off and take the stovetop half to pieces and go fishing for whatever might be down there and what in the Nine Realms is all that charred stuff and Ow! the burner’s still hot and dammit and why can no one can find the burn cream?)
We may *never* get to eat! Ehehehehehe…
I didn’t have time to finish my preparations yesterday. So much to do!
Here is the lemon (I think it was a lemon.)
No platter would be perfect without a little parsley garnish!
The berries are ready for the pie.
That’s the produce sorted. Time to start cubing the bread for the stuffing. This year we are having a special furry stuffing…
I think Sigyn and I will be eating out.
The humans are gearing up to some sort of festival. I must admit I do not yet fully understand what they are celebrating. I thought at first it was a harvest festival, although crops throughout the realm have been gathered for quite some time. Indeed, most of this country has already had snow. (Ehehehehe. You’re welcome, Buffalo.)
The holiday seems to feature parades, sporting contests, and a frenzy of market-going.
However, the main event seems to be a massive feast of Asgardian proportions. (You know, this whole thing sounds like just the sort of holiday Thor loves best. I shan’t invite him.)
I’ve been doing my best to make sure the vegetables are ready the big meal.
The celery is nearly ready for the stuffing.
The lettuce is ready for the salad…
…so is this tomato…
…aaaand the cucumber.
How stupid does the human female think I am? I wasn’t fooled about the ball pit, and I’m not buying her lies about this, either. I don’t care how loudly she protests that this is some sort of delicate laboratory apparatus, this is clearly some sort of delightful carnival-type ride. She just wants to hog all the fun for herself.
Hop in, Sigyn! Let’s go for a spin!
After days of drizzle, rain, clouds, and more rain, the sun has come out. It is warm and breezy. The sky is a brilliant blue. And, wonder of wonders, some of the trees in town have decided, overnight, that fall color is a Good Thing. It felt very good just to like back in the still-green grass and enjoy the spectacle. Until I got all squinty.
There really is everything from deepest maroon to a brilliant yellow. I approve. Sigyn, of course, likes the red leaves best, while I prefer the contrast of the ones that still have a bit of green on them.
Sadly, after all the rain, they are not crisp enough to jump in enjoyably. Still, they can be amusing. Come, Sigyn, let us haul them all inside and scatter them all over the carpet so that the humans and the cat can enjoy them.
Sigyn and I are doing some more exploring in the teaching labs the human female works in.
The Midgardian harpy says this is a pop-bead kit that the students use to study chromosomes and cell division.
Suuuure it is. You can’t fool me! It’s a ball pit and she just doesn’t want to share.
Augh! This walk just keeps going. Sigyn has started looking at all the berries and exclaiming about the colors.
We saw one of these beautyberry bushes back in the summer. I will grudgingly concede that the fruit is indeed a very vivid color.
Sigyn wants to climb everything. My cloak is sodden and I just want to go home. (But I seem to be caught on something.)
I know Sigyn has had us in the holly before. (She seems to gravitate to red things for some reason.) But look–wet berries, wet leaves, wet Loki. Sweetling, please can we be done now?
Oh, very well. One last plant. This vine is one I have encountered before. It and I treat each other with wary respect. There is a botanical truce. I could blast it into compost, but it has truly vicious prickles…
…which Sigyn seems not to mind. Sigh. By all means, let us indulge in some foliar gymnastics.
The human female says the pulp in the berries is stretchy and the plant is sometimes called “Snotberry.” Sigyn wants to pull one open and see, but since they also stain your fingers, I think she probably shouldn’t.
Oh, great. Now the human female is blathering on about local dyeplants and she and Sigyn are brainstorming a dyeing session and discussing the merits of solar versus simmer dyeing and the toxic properties of various mordants vis-a-vis their effects on vegetable dye sources and various plant and animal fibers and I’m never going to get home, am I?
The calendar says, "Autumn." So of course the human female and Sigyn want to go out and look for fall color and berries and nuts and suchlike. (My theory is that this urge to hoard for the winter is due to humans’ descent from some sort of tail-less rodent.)
The weather could not be more unpleasant if it tried. Crisp, sparkling cold is one thing–and as a Frost Giant, I can certainly appreciate the sparkle of sunlight on snow–but it has turned from summerishly warm to a seeping, cold, sniveling, damp misery. It’s gray and mizzling and windy and why are we out here and not at home with a blanket and a cup of hot cider???
Oh, very well. I will grant you that this mist-bespangled spiderweb is rather pretty. But my feet are wet.
And yes, that is a very colorful vine. The human female says it is something called "poison ivy" and can cause horrible, itchy rashes. Hmm. I think perhaps a bit needs to come home with me and find its way into her pajamas…
A cold, wet, unhappy Loki is a very naughty Loki…