Month: August 2017

Well, Hello There! (Sigyn Speaks)

The storm has brought any number of small creatures out of their hidey holes.  The toads have been singing at night!

And who is this little visitor?


Well, hi there!


Hee hee hee! That tickles!

You can stay, little bug.  You’re among friends here.

: )

What If You Gave a Wood-Destroying Insect Party And Nobody Came?

Ehehehehe!  I know I said I’d be moving on to other projects, but I haven’t wrung all the mischief out of Harvey yet.   (I know it’s a disaster of Ragnarokian proportions, but that doesn’t mean I can’t amuse myself at the human female’s expense.)

Monday was supposed to be the first day of the semester, but the University closed for two days–days on which it did not actually rain.  So now, it is midweek of the first week and everyone is behind and things are confused and everyone wants things done YESTERDAY.

Even though the U. was closed on Monday, the human female came up and put in several hours of work because her sole Tech II is out this week.  They met and mapped out work for the week.  The human female made all sorts of hurried notes.  Here are some she made on the very elegant notes the Tech II made — on whatever was handy.


That silver Sharpie marker is so classy.

Most of the human female’s morning has been taken up by logistics.  You see, Usually Squashes Parcels Significantly suddenly terminated mail delivery to the local area on Monday.  No warning, no delivering mail that was already out on route. Nope, back to the barn, no mail for you, no projected date of return to service.   Never mind that when they closed the local sorting center a few years ago, it was with the idea that it could be resurrected if need be.  Well, needs be now, people!

On top of Usually Squashes Parcels Significantly, Fed-up and Exhausted, which has a major hub in the Big Inundated City to the South, suspended all deliveries there and in the surrounding area, which includes here.  Unrepentant Package Squashers followed suit.

So here is the human female, trying to prep lab for next week, the lab that includes our old friends the fragile, ship-overnight-and-hope-for-the-best termites, with no way to get said Blattodeans here to play with!


(Sad, over-exposed photo of the container the termites will inhabit, if they come.  The green pan of water is a moat to keep out the ants, which like to dine on tasty Isopterans.)

Over the last few days, she has sent and received numerous calls, texts, and emails, trying to get the termites here.  It goes like this:   If  Fed-Up and Exhausted won’t do it, can Unrepentant Package Squashers do it routing through Big City to the North?   The Purveyor of Squiggly Things, who prefers to ship only FU&E, says they’ll look into it. She calls Unrepentant, who says they can.  The human female also contacted the Vendor Who’s Responsible, since she has glassware to order, and they say Unrepentant can’t.  She calls Unrepentant again and they say they can, and she lets Vendor of Squiggly Things and Vendor Who’s Responsible know.  Vendor Who’s Responsible  responds with a screen capture of the Unrepentant website, listing the local zip code as one they will not ship to. Human female responds with a screen capture that says the local area is unaffected.  Vendor Who’s Responsible emails back that both FU&E and Unrepentant have changed their tune and are now accepting *ground* shipments for delivery here, but not live or refrigerated materials.  The human female still insists they ought to be able to do air shipments through Big City to the North, and if not, she will drive to Random Small City to the North and pick them up there.   They’ve been going around and around all morning, with no clear path to Termiteville yet in sight.

If we could somehow rope in the Purveyor of Dead Things, we’d have some sort of twisted Vendor/Shipper Bingo going on.

So here I sit, with all the party props needed to entertain the termites properly, and no one to play with.


Guess we could always test whether Sigyn has trailing pheromones that are mimicked by Bic ink…

>|: [


Look At All the Pretty Colors

My thanks to those who have expressed concern for my safety.  I am happy to report that the rain has greatly diminished, at least in this exact part of Midgard.  Harvey has been banished offshore, and though he has expressed the intent to return, I have dis-invited him from this part of Midgard.  So far, the rain total at the humans’ house is 19.25 inches, which did indeed do the trick of keeping the human female from being able to do yardwork.  That’s all I wanted in the first place.

Actually, I am not certain that that is the correct rainfall total.  Look at the following images, if you please, keeping in mind that it began to rain on Friday the 25th and the human female only figured out how to get her phone to capture images on the 27th.  (She’s a little a lot technologically impaired.)  Green is a little bit of rain, orange is the heavy stuff.


We are under the little circle cross-hairs.


The humans checked the rain gauge about 10:00 p.m.  After that, it looked like this all night:


The human female was up, goofing off as usual, and listened to the rain beat against the house for hours.


It finally slowed about 4:00 a.m.  When the humans checked the gauge again in the morning, it said a whole 1.75″.  Six hours of steady rain, and that’s it??  I knew that the humans really, really wanted to know the total.  Since I couldn’t control the rain, I tinkered with the rain gauge.  Now it has the funny little habit of not being accurate when it’s raining sideways.  So they’ll never really know.  I have also trained thirsty birds to drink out of the rain gauge at the airport, so that’s no help.

The rain yesterday was lighter, so we didn’t have much fun to look at on the radar:


Just to keep them occupied, I arranged that the human male’s building would have wall leaks on all four floors, and that both humans would need to go into work, even though the University was closed.

It is closed again today. The human female plans to be “productive” around the house.  The male has to drive to Rival Orange City to the West because I dropped his phone (again!) and now the display looks like a copier with dirty rollers that’s running out of toner.  (I may have helped with the dropping.  I’m not saying…)

I… will be thinking and planning and plotting.  I grow bored of this rainy mischief, and it’s time for a new project.

>|: [



In Which It Drizzles Just a Smidge…

Next time I start wishing for something interesting to happen, will someone please smack me?

I didn’t mean for so much water to happen.  I invited this moist fellow, Harvey, to come and spoil the human female’s prospects of gardening, but I want it on record that his wanton destruction and disregard for conventional limits on precipitation were none of my plan.   Many things in this universe may be laid at my doorstep, but I refuse to be responsible for anything other than the human female’s soggy socks.

The humans and their felines are weathering the storm as best they can.  They attempted to do some last-minute securing of provisions on Friday, but the market was picked clean.  The human female, however, usually has enough comestibles on hand to feed at least a small army, so her response to the unrelenting downpour, out of some atavistic impulse to provide for the household, was to make bread.

Here it is in its pupal, resting stage.


The storm has spawned a number of tornadoes.  The human female was awakened rudely on Saturday by both the storm alarm on the radio and the human male.  There followed a very cramped and interesting half hour when we all huddled in the closet with the felines.  (Fickle beasts–every other day of the year they prowl about trying to get into the closet, but on this day, they resisted with all their furry might.)

It didn’t take too long before I was bored, so I saw to it that they first entertained Sigyn and me with a wrestling match and then used the human male as a jungle gym.


“Let me oooooooooowwwwwwwt!”

The humans have had to venture out to do some churchly things and have come back with photographs.

This town is not as badly off as many to the south  (the Large City to the South, in particular, is very floody.)

Still, driving has been tricky.

driving to mass

The retention area by the horrible apartments going up on the former site of Sigyn’s beloved pond is now a small inland sea.


The apartments, alas, are still standing.

It has been raining pretty steadily since Friday night, but there have been a few tiny breaks in the downpour.  Sigyn and I took advantage of one such to go for a little float.


Forward, cygnet!

>|: [




This Is Why The Human Female Never Can Have Nice Things

The human female listens to a LOT of music at work. Everything from silly children’s ditties to screechy things to odd Croatian covers of popular tunes. She says it makes her more productive.  Really, I think it’s just to drown out the voices in her head.

Her co-workers make her listen to her awful tunes with headphones, so none of the terrible stuff leaks out into the office.  Earphones are awkward enough, catching on her hair and earrings and tangling in her every endeavor.

For a while now, I have had a little project.  Every day, I pinch and poke at and stretch the little foamy muffly things that go over the plastic ear-bits.  I’ve been waiting to see how long it would take her to notice their progressive decrepitude.


She’s not terribly observant.

Last week, though, she FINALLY noticed all the bits of black foam confetti dotting her clothing and desk and set about finding either replacement muffs or new earphones entirely.   She looked in three different stores, but I’d been to all three ahead of her and seen to it that no one carries the earphones she likes.  For a while there, it really looked like she was going to have to live with bare plastic and little black snowflakes.

But curses!  The human male went online and ordered a whole package of earmuffins!


Clearly, this will call for immediate and sustained action on my part!

Today, I commence the    s  t  r  e  t  c  h  i  n  g.


Next will come the pulling, the poking, the pinching, the making of tiny little tears, and finally, the outright shredding.

It’ll be leaky music and black dandruff again before you know it!

>|: [

Seasonal Shopping, Part II: Back to School

Every year about this time, when all anyone wants to do is float in the shallow end of the pool in an innertube while drinking icy lemonade, when energy is at its lowest ebb and the wits have melted away like wax and dribbled out the earholes, it’s a cruel joke by the universe that it is also time to go back to school.

The return-to-education frenzy is fierce in this town.  Not only do the pint-size scholars of all the local elementary schools and the slightly-larger scholars of the middle and high schools have to report in for instructional indoctrination, but the sizable junior college and the simply ENORMOUS AND GETTING ENORMOUSER ALL THE TIME UNIVERSITY are also starting up.   This means an influx of frantic, erratic, ill-prepared, often-resentful out-of-towners (with their parents!), all converging on the very eateries and shopatoriums the local populace would wish to patronize in peace.

Traffic is beyond horrendous.

Never let it be said, however, that Loki of Jotunheim Asgard Jotunheim Ruler of Midgard turns tail and runs before a little danger!  On the contrary!  Sigyn (who is also quite brave) and I have come out today to examine the “back to school” wares.  In my youth, I was quite the scholar, spending countless hours poring over arcane magical texts.  And though I keep my hand in, I have not been a formal student in a very long time.  Would anything on offer today be magnificent enough to tempt me back into the classroom?

Sigyn, bless her heart, has been distracted near the entrance by a colorful display.  Um, sweetie, those aren’t really school supplies.


And I’m pretty sure that some of those aren’t colors found in nature

On the school-supplies aisle, the hordes of shoppers have left things in disarray.

What are—?  I don’t understand these.

scented crayons

Twisted crayons?  That are scented?  And scented colored pencils?  Who the what?

The worst part about this isn’t that they’re scented, or even that the crayons twist, its that the human female will not shut up!  “In my day we had plain old wax crayons, and we liked them!  They broke like crazy and were always dull but that was good enough for us!  And they sure weren’t scented!  If we wanted something to sniff, we huffed the ditto copies as nature intended.”

She’s scary.

Moving on!  Aha!  Here are some pencils worth coveting.  I find the yellow-orange sort to be garish and trite.  These green beauties are much more my style.


Sigyn says she would rather have a rainbow of markers to write with.


What would you do with so many colors, my love?

Oh.  Now she’s been distracted by something else.  Sixty-four is more than fifty, and there is a contest involved.


Pfft!  That’s not a very hard contest.  BLUE!  That crayon is BLUE!   If they have to have contest to see who can identify that, this realm is in even graver academic peril than I suspected…

>|: [


Seasonal Shopping, Part I: Summer Goods

At the risk of stating the blatantly obvious–it is summer here in this part of Midgard, and it is HOT.  Wicked hot.  Burny hot.  Move-to-Muspelheim-for-the-cool-breezes hot.  To touch a seat-belt buckle is to risk third-degree burns. Shoppers are looking for tiny shorts, light gauzy tops, inflatable kiddie pools, and enormous watermelons.   Fall and cooler weather are just beginning to think about being the merest hints of notions of tiny dots on the far horizon.

Which, is, of course, why I’ve instructed the stores to put out seasonally appropriate merchandise. 

Sigyn, would you care to demonstrate?




Drives the human female bonkers.

>|: [


I Feel Distinctly Cheated

Sigyn and I have eaten more cherries this year than ever before.  And we’ve pulled more cherries this year than ever before. There’s nothing quite like the thrill of finding out whose stem is just that little bit tougher.

The human female has just come home with still more cherries.  I wonder if there are any twin cherries in this bag?  I would love to have another chance at beating Sigyn!

Norns’ nighties!  What’s this?!


There’s only one left, but look, Sigyn!  This was a TRIPLE cherry!  We could have had such fun with this.  We could have let Fisi join, or you could have asked Muffy or even Thor.  Now we’ll never know.

I bet the human female ate the other two just so we couldn’t play with it.  Stoopid human.

Just for that I’m going to go teach the cats how to kick litter out of the box ALL OVER the bathroom…

>|: [

Well Done, Fenrir!

Fenrir, the great wolf who will swallow the sun at the time of Ragnarok, is making a pretty decent practice run today.

This part of Midgard should see about 68% of the sun’s disk swallowed up.  Of course, I have also arranged for it to be about 68% cloudy.  (It is a true fact that, if there is anything occurring of astronomical interest, be it a comet or a meteor shower or a large canid noshing on the primary, the local skies will almost always be overcast.)

The human female was too cheap to buy me a telescope and, no doubt, too stupid to know how to use one, but she did consent to do the bare minimum and poke a hole in a piece of cardstock so that Sigyn and I can use the old-fashioned method of tracking Fenrir’s snack.

Here we are.  It’s fairly near the beginning of the event.  (Notice that the human female had to weigh down the paper with her big, ugly eyeglasses.  It is breezy AND cloudy today.)


See, Sigyn?  The little sun spot is still mostly round.

We’ve all walked over to the plaza in front of the student center.  The Astronomy Club has several telescopes set up. The lines are long, but we have hopes of getting a peek.


(Some time later.) Well, that was a rip-off.   The human female saw something, but Sigyn was too short to peek in, and my horns got in the way.  We’ll just have to make do with our cardstock apparatus.

Look!  It’s working!  Our spot is more of a D- or crescent shape! 


Here’s a close-up.  I must admit— I am impressed.  Fenrir should be able to swallow the whole thing when the time comes!


(I am also a bit surprised that the human female’s cheap card trick actually worked, but don’t tell her that.  She’d get a swelled head and it’d take me a week to get her good and humble again.)

>|B [      (approved eclipse glasses)