Random Mischief

Just To Be Sure

I admit it:  I’m obsessing over our latest cherry-pull.  I won.   Or at least, I think I did.

Maybe I did?

I’m still not 100% sure Sigyn didn’t rig the whole thing.  What do you call that?  Reverse cheating?  Throwing the match?  Humoring me?

I think want a rematch.  And this time, no patty-fingers with the cherries beforehand, if you please!

Now we just have to see if there are any more twin cherries…   Sigyn, are there—




Oh my…

>|: o


Sigyn’s Great Gardening Adventure, Part I: The Community Garden

Sigyn gets...ideas sometimes.   Inspiration can strike seemingly out of thin air.  I’m not sure what’s triggered this round of enthusiasm, though I have a sneaking hunch it might be the radishes she sliced the other day.

Whatever the impetus, Sigyn has now declared that she’s going to start a garden.  I’ve tried to explain to her that this town is cursed with a salty clay soil and that the local water is also horrifically salty.  The summers are brutal.  Not much will grow here, and that’s a fact.

We’re lying here on the lawn, in the shade, discussing just what her prospects are.


My beloved, however, has a sunny optimism that nothing can daunt.  She is not deterred.  Perhaps the soil somewhere else in the city will be better?  And maybe someone has already made a good start and could use some help?  She’s set off, therefore, for a Community Garden she’s heard of, in hopes of snagging a plot of her own.

Well, she’s found it.  The people look friendly enough, I suppose.


They’ve told my sweetie that she can help out wherever.


I’m not sure that big rake is going to be useful in the raised bed of carrots.

Sigyn is squealing.  The garden has a chicken!   There’s a feeder/waterer and a coop and everything!


Are there eggs in the coop?


There is!  And it’s still warm!


Oh, it’s beautiful here.  Sigyn’s admiring the trees and lawn and shrubbery.  There are a lot of flowers here too.  She’s definitely in her element!


The beds are full—and they seem to be coming up on the lawn as well.  They clash a bit with the red thing, though.   Sigyn, is that a post box behind you?

Yes, yes it is.  Is there something inside?


Uh, oh.  Looks like the chicken doesn’t always leave the its nascent offspring in the coop.  I wonder how long this has been here?


Quite a while, I assume.  ‘Cause I’m pretty sure that eggs aren’t supposed to be gray.

>|: [

Sigyn Would Be Very Good at Hide-and Seek In Certain Circumstances

The humans are out running errands today.  Sigyn and I have tagged along, mostly because I am BORED.  A  BORED Loki is a DANGEROUS Loki…

We are currently in a big market that is famous for its red and white, archery-themed trade dress.  I am a fastidious shopper, but  Sigyn is predisposed to like everything about this place because RED.  

She is currently beside herself because we are in one of the housewaresy-kitcheny aisles and she has just discovered this large glass bowl full of shiny, red apples.


The human female is trying to explain to her that not only are they fake apples, they are fake Red Delicious apples, which is is heinousness squared.  A real black hole of bad appleness, if you will.  Beyond loathsome.

Sigyn is undeterred and has…

Oh, NO!  She’s fallen in!  Sigyn, are you all right?!   Where are you?! 

I can’t see her at all!   She is perfectly disguised among the shiny red apples with their little yellow highlights!


Nothing for it but to remove the apples one by one until I find her.

I can hear her giggling, so I think she is all right, just unable to climb out.

Hang on, sweetie!  Loki’s coming!

>|: O

Crawling Out of a Rut, Part II: A Coiffure Worthy of My Magnificence

The human male’s friend’s significant other has dressed her hair in a most resplendent way.  Behold, the finest hair ornament this side of Asgard:


Is it not perfect?

Great Frigga’s hairpins!  Now that I look at it, I do believe that that representation of my helmet would be just about…


It looks like…

Would it?

Only one way to find out…


Why, yes.  Yes, it does.

>|: [

Crawling Out of a Rut, Part I: Dinner in the Offing

The humans have been invited to dine at the home of one of their friends (who is also one of the human male’s coworkers–small world.)  I and my Sigynificant Other have been invited as well.  Fisi is also tagging along.  That dratted hyena has become unruly of late, so we are working hard on socialization.  Plus, if dinner conversation lags, that animal can be counted upon to do something awful and comment-worthy.

This friend and his significant other are going to be doing the cooking. I wonder what they’re making?  Actually, I don’t care what’s on the menu.  Any change from the fare the human female comes up with is sure to be delightful.  She’s not so bad at cookies, but she says that in hot weather her “cooking mojo” disappears.  Huh.  I’m not sure what a “mojo” is, but anything missing in this house is probably under the sofa with the crinkle balls and catnip mice.  But I digress.

The humans have helpfully brought along a long loaf of bread.  The female didn’t make it, so it’s probably all right.


The friend proposes to spread the bread with butter and herbs and bake it.


Fisi!  I know what you are thinking, and NO, you cannot eat butter right out of the tub!  If you behave, perhaps the friend will let you lick the knife.

The humans have also brought along some hard cider in most intriguing shade of pink.


Sigyn, who is fond of apples and the color red,  says this is close enough to both to be “wonderful.”  She’s in swoony love with it and the bottle’s not even open yet.

(sip) Fortunately, also tastes pretty good.

The meal is commencing with a salad.  Fisi has apparently mistaken the red, moist tomatoes for raw wildebeeste flesh…


Here comes the main course.  Hmm.  This is odd…  I am having a bout of what mortals call “Déjà vu.”  I could swear I have eaten this, in this place, before.


Oh.  Wait. Riiiight.  That’s because I have eaten this, here, before.  As I recall, it was quite tasty.  Dig in, Sigyn!  And don’t let Fisi hog all the sausagey bits.

>|: [

Sigyn Making Brassicaceous Friends

Recently the human female, for reasons passing understanding, decided that radishes would make an interesting and low-calorie snack food.  As if anyone has ever bought and eaten radishes on purpose.

Sigyn is being helpful and slicing some up.


They are destined for the lunchbox.  Or maybe the salad.  I can’t be bothered to keep track of the human female’s gluttonies.

Great Frigga’s Corset!  This particular rootlet appears to have more than the average amount of personality!


Sigyn has made friends, and somehow I do not think it is going into anyone’s lunch…

>|: [

Aaauugghhh! He’s everywhere!

The human female is out at the big metal building all full of dead plants again.  Recently, she’s been going through the cabinet full of “historical specimens.”  These are the superannuated sheets, all collected before 1880.

Largely, these specimens area already in the database, but if they’re not, she’s having to make entries for them: Family, genus, specific epithet, locality, date, collector, etc.   All of these old labels are hand-written, and deciphering the poor penmanship can take just as long as typing it all in.

This is the label for what appears to be the oldest specimen in the collection.


Look at that!  Do you see how some of S’s are written like F’s?  This sheet is databased as having been collected in “Valois, France.”  But was it really?

Great Frigga’s corset!  The human female with a mystery to solve is like a terrier with a pork chop bone.  She’s hitting the internet, doing some research and availing herself of  an online translating app.

(later) She thinks she’s figured it out.   The plant was collected by Jacques Gay.  It is Festuca valesiaca Gaudin.  The rest of the label says, “April, 1805.  It is common nearly all over Valais.  We have found it near Zermatt in 1809.  It grows also in Lausanne, in the territory of St. Sulpice (1809).”  So it’s from the canton of Valais, Switzerland, not France!  This makes sense, since ol’ Jaques was Swiss.

Math time!  If it took her half an hour to figure all of that out and there are hundreds of plants in this cabinet, what is the likelihood of my getting home to my beloved Sigyn some time this decade?

When I come to rule this realm, there will be just one country, with MY name on it, which will save so much trouble.

Next up:  this scrawny grass specimen.


There’s not as much writing on this one, and part of the information is printed, so perhaps it won’t take so long.

Let’s see…  Aristida ramosissima Engelmann.   That was easy.   “Leg.” is short for the Latin for “collected by,” so George Vasey was the collector, some time in 1862.  And where’s it from?


Aaauugghhh!  Seriously?  Some idiot named a Midgardian town after my horrible father?!  Everywhere I go, it’s my stupid family.  If it isn’t someone’s ridiculous visage, it’s their loathsome name.  Am I to be allowed no peace?

That’s it, female.   You are done for the evening.  Take me home.

>|: [

P. S.   Valais is famous for these creatures.  I think I know what Sigyn is getting for her next birthday.