Naughty Loki

A Strange and Wondrous Beastie, Part I: Well, Hello There!

The calendar says it’s fall.  The thermometer says it’s still summer.  My tummy says it’s lunchtime, and the human female says I’m driving her nuts and would I please go for a walk or something and take the damned hyena with you.

Fine.  I was sick of looking at you, too.   Come on, Sigyn, Fisi, let’s go for a stroll.

There’s something about October.  Sigyn gets this urge to collect colored leaves and nuts and twigs.  This very large acorn will make a nice addition to her growing cache.  Look, dear one, if you rub the nut part, the fuzz comes off and it will be all shiny and smooth underneath.


If you get tired of playing with it, I’m sure the felines would be happy to swat it around noisily about 3:00 a.m.

Norns’ nighties!  What manner of insect is this?!   It’s stupendous!  It’s colossal!

big cricket

It’s something Sigyn wants to ride.  Sigh.  Of course she does.  Very well, my love, up you go!


Not bad!  There’s a nice flat space on top of the carapace that makes a fine throne.  Forward, my chitonous-ligneous steed!


Now all I have to do is figure out how to steer.

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Glass Math, Part II: The Damage Really Adds Up

The humans have arrived home after a long day at work.  It is late. They are tired.  They are hungry.  The Terror Twins are demanding to be fed.  The human female is attending to this task while the male begins dinner preparations.

Hurry it up, mortal!  Gods and their consorts need sustenance too, you know.

By Odin’s Wretched Depth Perception!  What was that monstrous noise?!  It sounded alarmingly like…


Breaking glass.

Oh, ehehehehe!  My little set-up has finally paid off!  I’ve been encouraging the mortals to store their large, 4-quart glass casserole on top of the refrigerator, since it is was too large for any of the cupboards.  I knew one day it would fall off, and, well, just look!


That worked even better than I hoped it would.  Both the cover and the dish itself have simply exploded upon impact!   There are multiple large pieces, all right, but even more insidious little shards and a great quantity of nearly microscopic glass dust.

There is glass everywhereon the floor, under the refrigerator, between the refrigerator and the cabinets, on the counter, under the microwave, between the microwave and the wall, all over the cutting board, among the bags of snacks and bottles, around the wine and cider bottles, under the pantry door and inside the pantry, and–look at that! —all the way into the dining room!

There is even glass inside the toaster.

The first order of business is to sequester the ever-curious and tender-footed felines while all this vitreous shrapnel is dealt with.  The human female is attempting this task—she has Taffy in the bedroom and—Oh, no!  In stuffing Flannel in after her, she has allowed Taffy to escape!  There is a delightful amount of shouting and panicking going on.  Now all three are thundering down the hallway and–yes–no—yes!   She has managed to chase both confused and complaining beasts into the bathroom!

Now the real fun begins.  A large box has been procured to hold all the razor-sharp debris.  The human male is dealing with the big, wicked chunks,  while the female is sweeping nooks and crannies for all the evil tiny bits.  Ehehehehe!  They have to shake out a whole bunch of aprons and potholders and dust off the chip bags.  And every now and then, they have to stop and pick the glass out of the bottoms of their shoes.  This is going to take forever.

All accompanied by pitiful meowing and a good deal of scratching.

(much, much later)

The humans have done all they can do—for now. The floor has been swept and swept again.  It has been gone over with a wet towel.  The box-o-glass has been taped shut and placed in the trash.  The cats have been let out and mollified.   No doubt more bits of glass will be discovered in the future, but what can one do?

The casualties are extensive.  Not only are the humans out one large casserole, but the plummeting vessel broke the wooden cutting board that was on the counter.  The human female has tried, but it really can’t be glued back together.  There was enough glass in the  ancient toaster that neither human felt certain they had cleaned it all out, so the toaster has been disposed of as well.   This has turned out to be a delightfully expensive prank!

It also raises a deep, philosophical and mathematical question:

How can an eight-pound dish make ten pounds of shards???

(still later)

A trip to the local store and the cutting board and toaster have been replaced.  The casserole, however, is another story.  Who knew that four-quart dishes were so difficult to find?  The humans are now online, attempting to source a replacement for what has been a much-used wedding present.

Well, poke my eye out and call me Fury!  It turns out that the dish was part of a series of cooking vessels that is no longer being made.  Used duplicates are available, for a large price, with the postage on such behemoths amounting to more than the price of the dish!  There are no modern equivalents that do not have dismal reviews online.  Tut, tut!  The human male has located a stoneware vessel of approximately the same capacity.  The female is not impressed by its odd shape, fearing it may not fit in the refrigerator easily.

But it is GREEN , mortals, and that trumps everything.  It will be here by next week.

Stop the presses!  UPDATE!   The GREEN dish came, it was a good size, and it was GREEN, and it wasn’t too tall and it was GREEN.  But there is a chip on one handle that has aspirations of being a full-blown crack.  The humans have to send it back, which entails printing out a return tag , repacking the dish, and taking the dish to the local Unrepentant Package Squashers office.  Then they’ll get a credit and can order another one if they choose.

So, still not over!

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Spoiled Kitties, Part II: Some New Friends

Since the Terror Twins have misplaced  (or flat-out annihilated) so many of their toys, the humans have actually gone and bought them more, in the (vain) hope that they will play with the toys and stop knocking over trash cans and jumping on the tables.

I suspect that some of them may make a detour on the way to the felines…


Yes, Sigyn, this is a very exceptional and obliging lobster.  Certainly, if it is willing, you may go for a ride.  Just mind the claws.

I haven’t got the heart to tell her that this cute and friendly crustacean will probably be blind and antenna-less inside a week.

The human female’s mother went to a lot of trouble to pick out and mail some colorful rodents she thought Taffy and Flannel might like.   Can’t speak for the cats, but my sweetie is certainly excited!


They are firmly attached to the card, but one simple spell and all the vermin are freed!


Blue-ears (who has a rather alarming tendency to list to port)  has already been dragged under the table by Flannel Cat.


So long, Blue-ears.  It was nice knowing you.

If Flannel has Blue-ears and Taffy is chasing Pink-ears up and down the hallway, what will become of Orange–?



Sigh.  I think I have acquired a new pet.

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Spoiled Kitties, Part I: So Many Toys

The human female would insist that she and the male don’t spoil the Terror Twins.  Oh, is that so?   Then how do you explain the fact that this house is just littered with toys?  I am growing weary of stepping on them in the middle of the night when I get up to do a little mischief.  (Though it is fun to hear the humans trip and curse!)  The floor of the whole house is one big feline playground.  As well as the no-man’s-land under the sofa.

Look, Sigyn!  Have you ever seen so many feline amusements all in one place?

It’s not always pretty.   Here we have a pom-pom which has obviously known better days.

defunct pom

It appears to be hemorrhaging yarn.

Most of the toys have names.  This one is Chicken Nugget.


It has a sibling, in a dark leopard print, that the human female calls Rotten Nugget.  Charming.

This is Nipfish.  Like most of the toys, the felines are only interested in it if it is being thrown.  Just lying here, it is a very boring fish.


With her usual lack of imagination, the human female has dubbed these Blue Mousie and Green Mousie.   Green Mousie has an owie.

blue-green mousies

Eww!  Sigyn, do not try to comfort the mousies!  Their fur is all stiff and nasty with cat spit.

This is Sparkle Mouse.


He disappears for days at a time but always resurfaces, a little the worse for wear.  He leaves little sparkly threads all over the house.  But he still has his nose, so there’s that.

This is one of the Tan Mice.  There are two of them.


Flannel and Taffy have the bad habit of chewing bits off their toys.  This one has two little dots left for a face.  I’m not sure if it’s one eye and a nose or two weirdly-situated eyes.  It doesn’t much matter.  They’ll both be gone in a week.

The humans bought a package of three furry mice, since the felines seem to like those best.  There was a black one, a gray one, and a white one.   The gray one is called Hairball Mouse, because that’s what it looks like.  It is missing an ear, which makes Sigyn very sad.   No, my love, don’t pet it—more cat spit.


The black one was evidently the most fun to play with, because the kitties used to leave it in the middle of the living room or down the hallway every night.  In the dim light of morning, it was easily mistaken for something that should have been left in the litter box.  Sadly,  Turdmouse disappeared a few weeks back and has not been seen since.   The human thinks she found his nose, though.  It’s hard to be sure. One bit of chewed-up felt looks much like another.

I have taught the felines well.  They can be counted on to snub the expensive, catnip-filled creations in favor  other things—bugs, string, hands, paper wads, toes, leaves, acorns, a bottle of antacid tablets, and the laces to the human female’s ankle brace.  (Om nom nom nom)  The female tried them with the ring from a milk carton, since those seem to be popular with pussycats.  Taffy was quite interested in it.  Well, in eating it.

Remember:  Anything not nailed down is a cat toy, and anything nailed down can be pried up.

And stepped on, barefoot, in middle of the night.

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Loki, God of Deceptive Packaging

The human female, being singularly lacking in imagination, often has cold cereal for breakfast.  And not even good cold cereal!  No, she has fake Grape Nuts and fake Cheerios.

With skim milk.  (shudder)

A few days ago, though, she noticed her bowl of bland was a little tastier, the milk a little creamier and a LOT richer.   Hmm.   Very curious.

This morning, it’s the same—look at how it coats the spoon!


She’s not a big milk drinker, but suddenly she finds herself craving a tall, cool glass fairly often.   Mmmm.  Calciummmm.

It is a very good carton of milk!  She suspects that what’s in it is NOT skim milk.  No joke, dimwit.

She’s not sure what’s in the carton, whether it’s actually 1% or 2%—or even real, actual whole milk!  

A normal person would just start buying different milk until she figured out what she’s been enjoying  so much.  This mess of insecurities, though, is determined to continue to torture herself with the “healthier,” non-fat stuff.

Ehehehehe!   She blames me, but you know?  She does it to herself.

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A Most Interesting Catalog, Part II: Disillusionment

Sigyn and I are having fun, picking out animals to order from this unusual catalog.  Some animals we want because they are beautiful.  Some, because they are useful or amusing.  Others just have funny names.


Ehehehehe!  Behold, the Pacific Spookfish!   And what is a “cookiecutter shark“?  It sounds cute, but I imagine it’s probably just as bitey as all the others.

Ordering all of these animals is going to really add up!  Of course, I’m going to put it all on the human female’s credit card, so price is no object.

Come, my love, let us find the order form.  It’s probably at the back.

There’s nothing here.  I don’t understand.  Come to think of it, there are no prices listed and no price list, either.  What kind of catalog is this?!


Ah.  I think I may know what the problem is.


This is not a book from which one may order animals…


It is a book about the taxonomic Orders of the animals.


And it’s not even a proper book.  It  is actually a calendar.


With the lamest calendar grid ever.

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