big city to the south

These Trips Get Shorter and Shorter, Part III: A Colorful Finish

The humans usually finish one of these jaunts with a trip to the Large Market, and today is no exception.

The plantings in front of the market are enjoying one last bit of warm weather before things turn colder.

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The human female has, of course, headed straight for the apples.  Kanzi is one of her favorites.

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What?  You don’t like this one with the special dimple?  Snob, that’s what you are.

What Lovecraftian nightmare is this?!  Sigyn!  Get out of there!

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Oh.  Right.  I do remember this “beast.”  It’s just a harmless buddha’s hand.

The floral section is a lot less alarming.

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What are those spiky silvery-blue ones?  I like them.

Sigyn likes these red and yellow ones.

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But I think the zinnias are her favorites.

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Ah, my petal–you are the prettiest thing here.

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These Trips Get Shorter and Shorter, Part II: 餃‎: ‎ 間違いなく美味しい

There is one part of a jaunt to a Big City that I actually do like.  Any chance to enjoy a lunch that is not of the human female’s making is a real treat.  A visit to a different city affords a chance to dine at an establishment that does not consider peanut butter and jelly the pinnacle of lunchtime fare.

The human female has used her phone to locate an “interesting” place to eat.

Hmmm.

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Some of the menu options look quite tasty.

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Sigyn is seduced by all the colorful photos.

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Don’t do it, Sigyn!  It’s raw fish.

We have ordered, and the food is about to arrive.  Oh, no…  I forgot that this sort of food means eating with sticks.

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But the chicken tempura looks amazing.

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And I could easily eat this whole boat-dish of gyoza by myself.

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The main course comes with a salad.

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Sigyn approves of the ginger dressing.  It does smell good.

The human female is is even more boring than usual today.  Teriyaki chicken!  She has no imagination.

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The male has ordered a curry, which is somewhat more adventurous.

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I will let the others eat all this up.  I’m heading back to the kitchen to see if there are more of those dumplings…

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These Trips Get Shorter and Shorter, Part II: Finally, Some Merchandise to Fit My Needs

As I suspected, our first stop in the Big City to the South is the Purveyor of Pens.  This is where the humans and their bachelor friend will spend an interminable amount of time sampling inks, trying out pens they can afford, trying out pens they can’t afford and shouldn’t be messing with, and abandoning Sigyn and me to entertain ourselves while they dither and dawdle.  Come on, people!  How many scribing tools does one mortal need?

Hmmm.  I have discovered something on one counter which, while not pen-related and not actually for sale, is certainly something I could use.

I really, really like this sign.

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No, wait!  I want this one!  When I take over Midgard, I will have this sitting, front and center, on my enormous desk, right near where supplicants must stand.

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Right over the trap door into the dungeon…

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These Trips Get Shorter and Shorter, Part I: Getting There Is NOT Half the Fun

The humans are very jaunty people.  By that, I do not mean that they are perky, sprightly, cute, or energetic.  Far from it. Far, FAR from it.  No, I mean that at a moment’s notice they will hop into the car at on a jaunt to one of the big cities down the road.

Today their objective is the Big City to the South.  Sigyn wants to go, which means I have to go, to make sure she stays safe.  Norns’ Nighties! Weren’t we just there?

So, yes. I will lay aside my plans for today.  I will get into the car.  I will prepare myself for four hours’ of inane conversation in the car, and for being dragged all over when we get there.

But that doesn’t mean I am going to make it easy for you.

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It’s About Time.

A BHI  (Big, Heavy Item) arrived in the stockroom for the human yesterday, but it was raining, so she and her staff waited a bit.  And then the stockroom was closed, so it’s not today until someone can go fetch it and cart it over here.

Great Frigga’s Corset!  It’s the long-lost centrifuge!  It was not delivered by F&THS, whose paperwork carries the delightful slogan.

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(The human female was surprised, because apparently they only go as far as the Big city to the South)

Nor was it delivered by Yeah, Right, Ciao, but by a third, apparently more reliable, shipper.

Here it is, out of its protective swaddlings.  It’s ENORMOUS!  And so terribly clean!

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Yeah, that won’t last.

Let’s plug it in!   Odin’s eyepatch!  Look at that slick display!

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Speed, timer, and a bunch of other things.  Hmmm.  This looks complicated. I’m not sure the human female should go anywhere near it…

The inside is clearly set up for some good, fast, fun!

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Come, on Sorvall!  Let’s go for a spin!

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P.S.  Sigyn, here.  You know what the best part about this shipment is?  It’s the return address for the vendor:

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Is that not the cutest address ever?  I’d love to live on a street with a cute name like that!  I think I’ll ask the humans if we can move…

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Ehehehe! A Valuable New Ally in the War Against the Human Female

Last month, when the human female’s department finally coughed up some funds, she ordered a large, bench-top centrifuge to replace one that was first used to spin samples from creeping things back in the Ordovician.  The new one will be very nice.  It’ll take 24 samples and fling them about at an astonishing 4,000 rpm.  (Needless to say, at that speed, I will NOT be using it as my own personal theme-park ride.  That kind of rotation will do a number even on MY godly tummy.)

Yes, by my pointy helmet, it will be a fine bit of apparatus— if it ever comes. It didn’t come and it didn’t come.  The human female looked on the order acknowledgment, where it said, “Contact customer support for tracking info.”  So she did.  She was told that the freighting was being handled by some shipping company whose name means “Folks Who Make Things Happen Faster and More Smoothly.” (New friends of mine.)

Now she has plugged the tracking number into the website for FWMTHF&MS, she got this:

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Norns’ nighties!  Did you ever see such a strange timeline?  It departed before the estimated time of departure!  Unfortunately for the human female, however, the fool thing is stuck in the Big City to the South.  So she’s calling  FWMTHF&MS to see what the hold up is.

Ehehehe!  FWMTHF&MS  is telling her that they have handed off delivery of her goods to another carrier, YRC.   And no, they don’t have a tracking number for that.

This just keeps getting better!  And now she’s calling YRC.  These fine folks disavow all knowledge of the shipment.   No, so sorry, no shipment for the University since blah, blah, blah.  Apparently YRC is short for, “Yeah, right. Ciao.”

Human female, if your face changes color any more, you will need to re-do your wardrobe.

So now she’s on the phone the account representative with the original vendor.  Let’s call them Usually More Reliable Than the Vendor Who’s Responsible.  The poor fellow!  He has to deal with screwy shipping AND the human female.   He says he will get to the bottom of this and call her back.  Likely, he is handing in his resignation and taking steps to emigrate…

(Later)  No news.

(Later)  More no news.  It’s a new week now!

(Later again.) The account representative has talked to FWMTHF&MS–which I suspect is going to be shortened even further to F-TH&S.  According to F-TH&S, the centrifuge, which has now enjoyed a whole week in the Big City to the South, weighs too much for them, and it has been deemed “out of network” for them.  They say they are going to have to subcontract the delivery out to someone else.  Now, to be fair, it does weigh 174 lbs, plus packaging, but the account rep says that F-TH&S routinely ships large items like big ultra-cold freezers up here all the time.

So what’s the hold-up?

What Who do you think?  Eheheheheh…  Stay tuned.

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Predictable…

No visit to the Big City to the South would be complete without a visit to the Large Market.  I don’t really expect to find anything new or exciting, but Sigyn likes to talk to the fruit and flowers and sing little songs to the lobsters in the tank, both of which I find completely adorable, so it makes my day.

Sigyn says the label means these fruits speak French.

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“Bonjour Monsieur Banane! Vous avez l’air très ensoleillé aujourd’hui. C’est un jaune très flatteur.”

“Don’t worry, apples.”

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“The new crop will be coming in soon, but I’m sure someone will buy you before then.”

The store is decorated with semi-locally grown flowers today.

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Sigyn wants a boost so she can reach up and make the snapdragons actually snap.

They’re really pushing this sausage.    I wonder how hot it is?

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And if the humans would notice if I slipped it into their recipes?

Sigyn thinks this wine’s  goat label is cute.

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Nice horns, I must admit.

More goaty stuff:

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Fig and black pepper goat cheese?  That sounds just like the frou-frou sort of thing the humans would eat.  I bet they actually buy some.

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“Miss Peony, you’re sure looking cute!

“Your ruffly dress is a beaut!

“I certainly think

It’s a nice shade of pink!

And real comfy to sit in, to boot!”

My sweetie the poetess, ladies and gentlemen.
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