Day: February 7, 2020

I Called It

I called it.  Both ways.  We are eating lunch, AND we are doing it at the little restaurant in the Large Market.

The human female has a little salad, a roll, and some southwestern cream of poblano pepper soup.  It’s a chilly day– soup will be welcome.  When she’s not looking, I expect to enjoy about half of it.  Sigyn’s more interested in the bunny food.

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The male has soup of his own.  He’s also ordered some arancini.  Theoretically, these are little balls of leftover risotto, breaded and fried.  In actuality, they are little morsels of delight, knitted from moonbeams and unicorn tears by the elves of Vanaheim.

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I will fight the entire nine realms for this one.

As all assembled are finishing their noshing, Sigyn is exploring the table decorations.

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I just cannot keep my sweetie out of flowers!  Truth to tell, I don’t really try.

Lunch finished, we are now perusing the market.  As usual, the humans are buying all of the things that they can’t get back home.  That certain brand of pretzels, that one flavor of fizzy water, the gummy octopi…

Also as usual, Sigyn is making friends with zoomorphic cream pitchers.

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If Sigyn is ever in mortal peril and I have to call on all her admirers and acquaintances for help, there is going to be an entire ceramic critter brigade.

The floral department is Sigyn’s favorite part of the whole market.  It is so colorful!  She looks radiant with these yellow English garden roses.

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And just as charming in these rosy tulips.

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She thinks these pink pepper berries might be among her very favorites.

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(But she says that about everything.)

I am intrigued by these green poofy thingies.  The human female says they’re mutant carnations.

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Maybe they are; maybe they aren’t.  They just look so wrong that they’re right, you know?

We are both intrigued by these sTraNgE carnations–they’re pinkish AND greenish!

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The overall effect is a bit…odd. The individual components are all right– pink is good and green is good—but as a whole, they give an impression of fading, of genteel decay.  The whole is less than the sum of its parts.

Sort of like the human female.

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