Month: August 2018

This Is Why I Hate Her

The humans have been married for mumbledy-something years.  (Doesn’t matter.  Humans are like mayflies compared to the Jotnar and Aesir, so keeping count is laughable.)  For their wedding, all those years ago, they received a set of nice, dark green kitchen canisters.  If you ask me, they’re the nicest things in the whole house.

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Imagine, then, my dismay when the human female, with her usual ape-ish butter-handedness, dropped a heavy mug out of the cabinet right onto the sugar canister, which was my favorite.

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I’m so mad I can’t see straight.  I didn’t even have the fun of watching her die slowly and agonizingly of intestinal perforations, because she found all the micro-slivers of ceramic in the sugar and threw the whole sticky mess out.

They don’t make them anymore.  Now, unless the human male gets lucky on ebay or something, I’m going to have to look at a set of mismatched kitchenware, and it will annoy the daylights out of me.   Believe me, she deserves everything she suffers at my hands, and more.

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Does Anyone Know a Good Oneirologist? (Sigyn Speaks)

Sometimes it’s not hard to figure out where my dreams come from.  Dream about herding cats, and most likely I’m afraid of parts of my life being out of my control.  (Hello?  Maybe-married to the God of Mischief!)  Dream about all my teeth falling out and maybe I’m worrying about losing my youthful good looks.  But sometimes I really wonder what’s going on in my noggin.

Take last night.  I dreamed I was walking along and I saw Thor riding up on some sort of weird go-cart/cylcle thing.

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That wasn’t unusual.  Thor often comes to visit.  Loki frequently hides when he does, but nothing strange about it.

But this time Thor has the weirdest expression on his face…

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Before I can ask him about his vehicle or why he’s grinning like a maniac, here comes Loki, on a little go-cart thingy of his own.

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Well, it’s Loki, but not Loki, if you know what I mean.

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And he looks a little possessed too.  And he had this glowy blue crystal thingy instead of Gungnir.

So there’s the two of them, both somehow shorter than me and grinning like fiends, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or run…

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Except it was one of those dreams where you can’t run.  All I could do was watch them circling one another, like they’d driven up just to have some epic battle in front of me.

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But before it comes to actual blows, they just give one another a look…

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…and then zoom off again, each driving the other’s car.

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No goodbye.  No “see you later.”  No “want a ride on my cool new lightning-mobile?”

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While I’m trying to figure it all out, suddenly the scene changes, and somehow Loki and I are part of the circus and we’re practicing our trick riding…

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…and then I woke up.

What on earth do you suppose it all means?

: (

Behold, the Muffnut!

The human female doesn’t really need feeding, but the human male has brought her a little something that was on offer in his workgroup.

Look, Sigyn!  It’s a blueberry donut!

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Odin’s Eyepatch!  This is a most peculiar donut!  The flip-side of it looks like a muffin!

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What is it?  Donut or muffin?  Monut?  Doffin?  Duffin?  Muffnut?  This confounding baked good is neither one nor the other and is vexatious in the extreme.

Sigyn, however, finds it delightful.

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Sigh.  Stuck again, but this time, I don’t think she wants to be rescued.

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Safety First! (Time Well Spent)

Part of the human female’s job is Safety.  

Yes, that word is Capitalized—at least around here.  It is her job to make sure the fire codes are followed, hazardous waste is tagged and disposed of properly, broken glassware is put into a special container, sharps ditto, the hallways are kept clear, and the Prep Staff are primed and ready to deal with any emergency, from breakfast-shunning fainters to students making bad choices regarding forceps and electrical outlets.

One piece of equipment the workgroup has but hopes never to need to use is the AED.  I forget what that stands for.  Angst-inducing Electrical Doo-dad?

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It hangs on the wall in the hallway.  The human female is supposed to check every day that the pretty little status light is green.  Once per month, she’s supposed to make sure all of its various bits and contrivances are in good working order.  Sometimes I do this for her.

This red light will light up if the thing is actually being used to zap someone.

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As with so many things, it would look better if it were green.  All it would take is one little spell…

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Inside the box, there’s a hangy key.

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If one is just checking the device and doesn’t wish to alarm everyone in a hundred-foot radius, one puts the key in the lock on the outside of the box and turns it.

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Sometimes I “forget” this step.  The alarm is gratifyingly ear-piercing.

Next, I have to take the box out.  See?  Here’s that green light I was speaking of.   Hello, my lovely.

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Do you see the white “bloom” on the housing, next to the locator label?  When the unit was installed, it was all right, but I changed this bit into that weird plastic that gets sticky and greasy with age.  Whenever the human female has to handle it, she always tries to avoid touching that part.  If she misses, she makes faces like she’s been tasked with touching baboon butts.  (Makes her look worse than usual.  Someone with a face like hers shouldn’t be so judge-y about baboon butts, if you know what I mean.)

But I digress.  The next step is to open the box and then push the yellow arrow button to open the shocky-part.

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REMAIN CALM!!  MAKE SURE 911 IS CALLED NOW!!

Or, at least, that’s what it’s supposed to say.  When she does the checking, the human female usually puts her hands over the speaker so that what comes out is more like

REMAIN CALM!!  MAKE SURE 911 IS CALLED NOW!!

When I do the checking, I usually wait until the hallway is full of students studying for a quiz and then let it rip at full volume (and then some.)  All those exclamation points tend to have an effect on people that is just the opposite of calm.  I never get tired of seeing the more tightly-wound kiddos jump and startle.

After the shouty bit is over with, it’s a matter of simply initialing the check chart and reversing the steps to put the AED (Angry Exclaiming Device?) back into its locker.  I’ve left a little spell, and about half the time, the human female pinches herself on the snaps that hold the inner case shut.

The whole process takes under four minutes.   But since I can spend two and a half of those annoying the female whether she does it or I do it, it’s four minutes well spent.

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Prunus tripla, Part II: The Early Bird

Imagine my outrage when I discovered that my oafish “brother” and his pals had seized upon my triple cherry and had their way with it while Sigyn and I were searching for a third for cherry-pulling fun.  That is such a Thor thing to do!  Waltz in at the last minute, toss a little lightning around, and spoil everyone’s fun.

Well, the joke is on him.  The human female is working in the herbarium, and she has brought cherries for lunch— and he’s not getting any!

Great Frigga’s Hairpins!  Here is ANOTHER triple cherry!

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No, Fisi. The rule against hyena spit is still in force.

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Sigyn, let’s go find someone to pull it with us.  Fisi, you stand guard, and if Thor and his pals show up, feel free to bite them in the kneecaps.

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Grr.  Sigyn and I couldn’t find anyone to play with us.  As a last resort, I have summoned a magical clone.  He and I and Sigyn will make short work of this drupaceous triplet, and–

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Nope, no idea.

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Prunus tripla

It is still cherry season.  The human male did the grocery marketing and came home with a bag of the biggest, blackest cherries I have ever seen.

How big are they?

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They’re a little less than one Benno in height, about two Bennos around, and about three Bennos in weight.

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He’s terrified of them.

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Run, Benno, run!

There are a lot of twin cherries in the double handful the human female brought for lunch.

Idunn’s Pomes and Ponytails!  It’s a triple cherry!  I have never seen the like!

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How does one pull a triple cherry?  I guess we need someone else to participate.  No, Fisi, I’m not letting you do it. I don’t want hyena spit on my fruit!

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Let’s go see if we can find someone else to play with us…

(meanwhile)

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