big city to the north

Souvenir d’un Déjeuner Passé, Deuxième Partie: Les Entrées et Les Desserts

By my fine pointy helmet, it was hard to choose what to eat!  In the end, most of the party agreed to order different things and then perhaps “swap tastes.”  I, of course, wouldn’t dream of sharing with anyone but Sigyn.

The Blue-haired Goddaughter opted for a salmon sandwich.


I was really, REALLY hoping the human female would ask for a nice big taste.  One of these days I’m going to see her break out in that famous pebbly rash she’s always talking about…

Another of the party chose quiche and a cup of fruit.


Now see, this seems all backwards to me.  Pie should have fruit in it (but NOT cantaloupe–bleargh!), not on the side, and eggs are not pie material.

The human female, out of all that marvelous menu, chose something she actually makes very well herself—French onion soup.  Great Frigga’s hairpins!  Doesn’t she know that dining out is for trying something different?!


The salad–excuse me, salade— had spinach, prosciutto, cranberries, asiago cheese, pear, and caramelized pecans, so that, at least, was a little adventurous.

We all saved room for dessert.  The Blue-haired Goddaughter made sure she saved some room for strawberries Romanoff crêpes.


I was going to ask to try them, but le sucre en poudre est une bête à enlever de mon manteau.

Sigyn and the human female, between them, managed to consume this entire almond croissant…


And still have room to eat one or two of the beignets that someone else couldn’t finish.


Madame la femme humaine, vraiment vous êtes un petite cochon.

>|: [


Souvenir d’un Déjeuner Passé, Première Partie: Les Préliminaires

When I become sole ruler of this realm, it will be important to have documentation* of all my mighty exploits, which are, you must admit, the stuff of legend and worthy of many a ballad or saga.  So today I was looking through the photographic evidence of my mischief, making sure all was in order, and I came across a set of images from a culinary adventure which happened a few months ago and which I have heretofore not chronicled.  It’s not that I forgot about it–it’s simply that I’ve had so much other mischief to write about!  But since I know that my devoted readers will want all of the details, so allow me to recount…

This all occurred on the humans’ most recent visit to the Blue-haired Goddaughter and her family–as well as a number of friends–in the Big City to the North.  While the males of the house party amused themselves with board games, the females decided to venture forth in search of retail adventures. Sigyn, I could tell, was quite keen to accompany them, and I went along as her companion and bodyguard.  (Leave my beloved unprotected in a strange city?  Not on my life!)

The outing included a genteel repast at a charming little bistro.  It had an English name, but it was rather Frenchified on the inside.  Sigyn and I found the menu to be quite intriguing.  There were so many wonderful dishes from which to choose.

Sigyn thought about ordering the Goat Cheese and Arugula Salad.


I was in the mood for something more substantial.


I couldn’t believe, with chicken and waffles and calimari on the menu, that Sigyn would even contemplate a fungus burger.


Planning the meal around the dessert, however, was entirely in character for both of us.


It was a chilly day, so Sigyn thought tea might be nice.  She’s a big fan of Earl Gray.  The very aroma of it makes her drool.


But I thought this one would suit me better.


So what did everyone finally order?  Je te le dirai demain…

>|: [

*pics or it didn’t happen

1 Evening, 2 Cellos, 3 Over-Excited Females, and a Whole Lot of Screaming

The human female has been insufferable all day.  She and the blue-haired goddaughter, who has driven down all the way from the Big City to the North, have tickets to a concert in the Big City to the South tonight.  She says it involves cellos.  I have no real objection to stringed instruments, so I think Sigyn and I will go with them.


Uhg!  The females chattered all. the. way. down.  I am more than ready for some soothing cello music.


They look a bit under-dressed, but perhaps that is not what they wear to perform…

Now we are standing in front of the auditorium, waiting for the doors to open.  It is cold and windy and Sigyn is getting chilled.  If my sweetie catches cold, someone is going to pay!

Ehehehe!  The security line Sigyn and I are in has moved smoothly.  The human female and the blue-haired goddaughter’s line is not moving at all.  Perhaps that’s because I just zapped the metal-detecting frame and it’s dead.  Now all the cranky mortals have to shuffle over into a longer line!  See you later, ladies—Sigyn and I are going inside where it is warm!

Our seats appear to be satisfactory.


Later:  Sigyn was sleepy, so she is taking a little nap while some unknown vocalist performs some songs no one can catch the words to.  Thor may be the god of lightning, but I do all right with electricity and can scramble a PA system as well as anyone!

Muuuch later:  Sigyn is sleeping so peacefully that I am letting her have another thirty minutes of nap, while the other concert goers get to sit staring at an empty stage and growing increasingly annoyed.

Later still:  Very well.  Sigyn is rested and refreshed, so I suppose it is all right for the concert to start.  An hour past scheduled start is enough mischief.  Let there be Cello!

Lovely, lyrical cello and—

Great Friggas’s Corset!!!  I did not know cellos could be manipulated to play heavy metal music!


And what is that frenetic drummer doing up there?!  Odin’s eyepatch!  I have been lured here under false and very decibellious pretenses!

Just for that, I shall make sure that the human female and the blue-haired goddaughter do not show in the official concert photo.


Sigyn and I are approximately under the red arrow.

The show is over and all the females are still squealing and bouncing up and down.  My ears are still ringing! And we still have a long drive back–it’s going to be midnight before we reach home.  No one had better mess with me tomorrow, because I’m sure to be as surly as a bilgesnipe with a sore paw…

>|: [

Has She Finally Succumbed, Part IV: Fancy A Bit of a Marketing,Old Chap?

We are finally on the road.  However, we do not seem to be GOING anywhere!  We are crawling s l o w l y down what ought to be an expressway.  Sleipnir’s fetlocks!  Why is nothing moving?

In the interest of not having the human male explode, we are taking a brief detour to one of this city’s Large Markets, in hopes that the traffic stupidity will have abated by the time we venture out again.

Well, this is different.

The Large Market frequently has elaborate promotions, focusing all of its time, attention, and floor space to a particular food or a particular season, or a particular corner of this pitiful planet.  (If you recall, Sigyn and I stumbled upon a previous celebration once.)  What are they championing this time?

Oh, this is familiar!


I can just tell that the human female is about to be overcome with nostalgia. This is a tiny store, as far as Large Markets go, but it still seems to be full of all sorts of Limey comestibles.  By all means, let us explore!

But first–the requisite  meander through the produce section!  Sigyn, of course, is smitten with the red pears.


These are organic, so each one is its own peculiar shape.  Definitely more interesting than regular pears.

The tiny potatoes, evidently, are also squee-worthy.


And here is a horse  dragonfruit of a different color.  I did not know these came in yellow.


Now she has both of her favorite colors!  But they are definitely not British!

Let’s see…   Ah, yes.  The bakery seems to be doing more with the theme.  Sally Lunn cake, treacle tart, and a plethora of scones.   Mmmm….  The human female has chosen an orange-cranberry scone and plans to start in on it right away.  I’ve yet to find the perfect–



Um, hello, old chaps!


I know a bloke who likes to try all sorts of strangely flavored chips crisps.  Right this way…

>|: [


She Has Finally Succumbed, Part V: What Followed Her Home

Well, here we are, home from the pen show in the Big City to the North.  Let us examine the human female’s final haul.

She ended up buying a vintage pen after all.  I approve of the color.


She says it is a “Sheaffer Junior 275 from the 1930s, with a celluloid body, a restored ink sac, and a 14 k gold flex nib.”  I’m not sure what any of that means. I just repeat what I hear.  Basically, I think she bought a fancy old pen.  But since she’s trying to find a nice graygreen to fill it with, I suppose I can be mildly enthusiastic. Yay.  Go, you.

There are almost too many inks to choose from.  The human male has lost count of the number he has.  Each has a little sample card.  The female is trying to find the perfect cobalt blue.  It should leap off the page, without being gaudy.


Sigyn has been trying to help her choose and has gotten herself all worked up over it.  Don’t fret, my love.  There is literally NOTHING less important than what ink goes in the human female’s stupid pen.

Come now, take a step back and look at things with fresh eyes.


The human female also looking for a good purple to put into one of the cheap silver-and-gold colored pens they found on the way out of the show.  They were 3 for $10, so the humans bought a handful, so as to be able to fill some with unusual colors or to give some away to curious friends.

The human female bought one other pen.  It was very inexpensive and has a pretty bluey-silvery barrel.  Now she’s trying to find a “fun” ink to put in it.


She thinks this De Atramentis Columbia Blue Silver might do.  It’s medium blue, but when you tilt the page, you can see that the ink is full of shimmery silver sparkles.  That is MUCH too-fru-fru and color-coordinating for me.  I think—yes, I do believe I shall— cast a little spell so that that ink will not work with that pen.  She should thank me for keeping her from being too twinkie.

And then one of the will skip and another will balk and then one will get ink on her hands…

I am enjoying this new hobby immensely.

>|: [


She Has Finally Succumbed, Part II: The Intermission (A.K.A. LUNCH)

All of this stylophilic geekery  (not to mention the early start and the 3+-hour drive) have has given the humans quite an appetite.  It must be lunch time!  Luckily, the hotel has its own restaurant, with quite a diverse menu.  Let’s eat there.

(thirty minutes later)  I am becoming most definitely annoyed.  There are four humans plus us, plus another pen nerd who has wandered over to chat about–gasp! pens!, as well as a mountain of bags, a purse, etc., but still the waitress has yet to come and take our order!  Apparently we are invisible, and no, I didn’t do it.  I’m hungry too.

Oh, charming!  This area of the restaurant is apparently the “bar”, and there is a very limited menu available, specifically excluding the items some of us wished to purchase!  Outrage!  Well, I suppose we’ll have to choose from what’s available.

While we wait for the food, Sigyn is hugging this plant.


Give it a squeeze from me.  I’ll just keep an eye out for our order.

(later)  Now the males’ meals have come.  The human female has been handed a chicken club sandwich, which she did not order.  Back that sandwich goes!–and mind you get it right this time!

The human female is sharing her quesadilla with us.  She can have ALL the jalapenos and pico de gallo–I’m claiming the biggest piece of dilla with the most chicken and quesa.


Careful, Sigyn!  I do not think that sour cream is good for the complexion.

The human male’s sandwich came with a weapon.


Can I use it to poke the tortoise-paced waitstaff?

(later)  Well, that was all very tasty.  It’s time to head back into the—

Norns’ nighties!


Sigh. Some people just don’t understand about cute mini French-fry-containers.

>|: [

She Has Finally Succumbed, Part I: The Show

Longtime minions will recall that the human female has a love-hate relationship with fountain pens stretching back many years and recounted in many posts.  Over the years, she has found a few she can write with without besmirching herself to the elbows, and she’s always been fascinated with all the fancy colored inks.  Recently, she has given up and given in to the fountain pen obsession that grips the other member of the household, and she has wangled the day off to accompany the human male and two Pen Friends to the big Pen Show in the Big City to the North.

Sigyn and I have tagged along.  Sigyn, because she likes colors and people; I, because I am always looking for mischief opportunities, and a room full of expensive merchandise and stainy liquids seems like fertile soil.

I’ve scored before we’ve even arrived!  I just distracted the human male while he was driving, so he has missed his exit and has had to turn around.  The slight delay means he will miss his chance to get his name on the list to have one of his pens adjusted by a Master.  Ehehehehe!  This is fun already!

The show is being held in two big, adjoining rooms in a fairly swanky hotel.  It’s still early in the two-day event, but the crowd is sizeable and growing.


You can practically smell the nerdiness.

There is a very bizarre desk set near the booth of the Master doing the pen-altering.


Sigyn, stop!  Do not do what the sign says!  You don’t know where those creatures have been.

This vendor is selling colorful pen pouches.


Odin’s eyepatch!  Can I go nowhere without running into my brother or his horrible friends?!

While many of the vendors are showcasing the most recent, must-have merchandise, there are quite a few purveyors of vintage or antique writing implements.


Sigyn is drawn to the ones that look as if they might have been bright red once.


While I have just discovered that green seems to have been a popular color.  There are dozens and dozens that look just like this, all over the show.  The price is ridiculous on this batch, though, so I will keep looking.

>|: [