Random Mischief

One Mortal’s Trash is Another One’s Treasure

Sigyn enjoyed looking at the paperweights and cameo glass, but there is so much more to see here at the gallery.

Take this room, for example.  It’s entirely full of TRASH.  That’s right, all of the “art” in this display is made out of junk.

This colorful tropical reef is aaaall made out of would-be plastic junk and paper.


See?  Up close, it is easy to see that all the fish are made from recycled bottles.

museum trashfish

Someone drank a LOT of water.

The other wall has a collage of little bits and pieces stuck on popsicle sticks and all painted white.  It’s a big thing—this is just a little part of it.


Hmm.  I’m not sure I see the point of this one.  Unless they had the local Good Humor Man save all the discarded ice cream sticks from all his customers for a whole year, those sticks weren’t trash.  And someone probably bought all those little wooden shapes special for this project.  This isn’t recycling at all.  Fake!  Fake art!

I don’t even think it’s installed correctly.  Look at that upper-leftish panel, the one with all the hearts.  The upside down hearts.

Besides, what did they do with all the glue and paint containers after they made this art?  Were they properly recycled into more art?  On the one hand, for the good of this realm, I hope they were, but Great Frigga’s hairpins!  For the sake of my eyes, I hope that they weren’t!

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In Which I Admit That Maybe I Should Have Had A Snack Before Visiting The Museum

There’s more glass on display here at the Runyon Collection besides the paperweights.  The collection is heavy on cameo glass.  Let me explain that for your tiny mortal brains.  Imagine a glass sandwich.  Then imagine carving the top piece of bread in fancy patterns so that the tunafish shows through, or even digging down to expose the bottom piece of bread.

Drat.  Now I’m hungry.

The museum staff rotate the displays so there is always something new.  By Heimdal’s Golden Helmet, those Runyons have a lot of glass.  (Which makes me think that they really would not miss one or two pieces here and there.)


Sigyn is thrilled because a lot of this display is a nice, strawberryish red.

Someone who was a Plant Nerd designed this one.  Sigyn likes it a lot.


I prefer this next one.  It has bindweed, which is tenacious and pernicious and altogether a pain in the neck for farmers.  (The label says morning glories, but the human female says bindweed, and she knows about pernicious, being so herself.)


Look, Sigyn! This one symbolizes our love.  It has passionflowers.


And because flowers need something to pollinate them:


If the first couple were strawberry, that one is lemonade.

Then there’s strawberry lemonade…


Drat.  Now I’m hungry AND thirsty.

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The human female’s work group tends to make a medium-sized deal about birthdays.  I wouldn’t say big deal, because there are no parades, no fireworks, and no maidens throwing flowers, which is how I like my birthdays.   No, around here it’s more than just, “Hey, you look older.”  Somewhere in the neighborhood of, “We all signed a card and someone made cake.  We may or may not sing.”

Today is the human female’s boss’ birthday, and the human female made the cake.  Or rather, a dozen little cakes.  She put lemon in and on them, and I must admit they look pretty good.


Everyone is busy munching and saying that they’re good.  Nothing fancy, but they’ll do.

Enter the surprise delivery of anonymous, richly chocolate cupcakes decorated with dipped strawberries and cleverly-constructed faux succulents.


No one wants your raggedy old lemon things now, DO they?

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Again With The No Mint And No Spring

The human female is doing another drive-by, quick-in-and-out visit to Minter Springs—you recall, the typically-stupidly-Midgardian-named place with no mint and no spring.

Oh, wait… I may have spoken too soon.  Sigyn has found something that smells vaguely mintish.  Is it just me, or do the flowers look like hand-puppets?


Oh, and evidently that is a small one, because she’s found a BIGGER one to climb on.


How bizarre—it carries its flowers in pom-poms.  I shall call this… poodle mint.

I wonder what else is here?

Well, this looks familiar. Sigyn gets excited about this plant every time she sees it.  I can’t ever remember the name.  Scarlet pumperknuckle, or something like that.


I think we’ve seen this one before, too.  One does not readily forget such an obnoxious shade of pink.  It’s not a tall plant, but it still towers over my sweetie.


Even these tiny doll’s daisies tower over her (if she lies on her back.)


Isn’t there anything new here?  I’m bored.

Oh.  Well, I suppose this is different.  Little pea flowers.  The human female says this is called “pencil flower” because the beans it makes are long and skinny.

I thought it was because the flowers are the color of number two pencils…


I’m really not comfortable, sitting here with the sun in my eyes.  However, the human female is being bitten to pieces by mosquitoes every second we are here, so it’s all good.

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The human female is out at the herbarium again, identifying plants.  Usually she is all alone out here, but it looks like someone has taken over the empty desk next to the human female’s.

I find this very surprising.  I can only assume that this means this person, whoever it is, has not met the human female, or else s/he would have requested a spot waaaaay on the other side of the facility–which, given that the herbarium is housed in a gigantic warehouse, would be a not inconsiderable distance.

Come, Sigyn, let us rifle this unattended desk for valuables   leave a charming welcome note for this new and unsuspecting coworker.

Fenrir’s fleacollar!  Sigyn, get back!  The unknown owner of this desk has left some sort of vicious guard beast to protect his/her belongings!


Sigyn wants to make friends, but I don’t trust this sucky-faced creature!  Back off, you neon-green cone-of-shame wearing varmint, or you will become acquainted with the pointy end of Gungnir…

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