We are back in the car with hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of miles still to go. Hey, humans! Sigyn is hungry! And the snacks you packed, while crunchy and salty, are not nutritious. I demand we stop for sustenance!
Huginn and Muninn’s downy pinfeathers! I meant a real meal, not some fast-food fiasco-in-a-bag!
Bleargh. Looks like tunafish. SMELLS like tunafish.
Sigyn is ready to dig in. Possibly the spinach, tomatoes, and cucumber will be delicious, but I can never smell canned tuna without thinking of cat food…
Uh, oh! The Cheetos have been breached.
Sometimes I think I need to tie a string around her ankle to drag her back out when she disappears into a bag of the things.
(the next day)
We arrived. We were fed. We went to bed and woke up again. We were fed. The human female’s mother seems to be in the running for Food-Pusher of the Year. I’ve no objection: I like to eat, and the woman is a great cook.
Great Frigga’s Hairpins! It looks as if there is another meal in the offing!
The table is very festively set. Look at all the blue and white china, Sigyn!
Sigyn thinks the china pattern is lovely. I’m distracted by the mix-and-match salt and pepper shakers.
There is a turkey boat sailing in the middle of the table.
Sigyn thinks it’s a fine ride, but I’m squished in here among the corncobs, which is precisely zero fun.
Sigyn has abandoned the turkey boat in favor of the gravy boat.
Careful, my pet! Falling in might be tasty, but I doubt gravy would be beneficial to your complexion.
Behold! The feast appears! No baggy sandwiches here!
Clockwise from Sigyn: mashed potatoes with gravy, spiced parsnips and carrots, asparagus, mashed sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, turkey, pumpkin roll.
Not only is everything delicious, but parts of it are red and parts of it are green, so it is also chromatically aesthetic.
And is there pie? I’ve heard there might be pie…