big city to the west

みんなでランチをしましょう, Part I: Acquiring Comestibles

The humans have had to run to the Big City to the West for some churchy event or other.  Sigyn was excited, whatever it was.  I didn’t want to know–I’ve just tagged along to see that Sigyn comes to no harm.  At any rate, the humans dragged a few friends along, the churchy event is over, and one of the friends has produced yet another friend, and  now suddenly I find myself in a very odd restaurant, squeezed into a booth with three people I don’t know and two people I only tolerate, contemplating some very peculiar lunch options.

The whole place is very highly mechanized.  A conveyor belt of sorts snakes all around the establishment, laden with small plates of tidbits, mostly of the raw fish variety.

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A plate with a placard announces each new set of arrivals.  One simply reaches out and takes whatever plate one wishes as it trundles by.  The computer by each table registers what has been selected.  Very clever, these Midgardians!

No, Sigyn, you may not ride the belt just to see where it goes.

The human female has selected some round, seedy…things.

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There were three in the bowl, but the human female has already inhaled one of them.  That leaves two, Sigyn, one for each of us. (poke, poke, poke) Now I remember!  They’re filled with sweet and beany goo, and we like them!

It’s not the warmest day outside, so we have ordered some hot ramen soup from the table’s computer menu.  It arrived on a separate little swift conveyor and stopped neatly at the table.  No soup on the main conveyor, because someone else might take it.  Would people really do that?   Take someone else’s food?  Well, I would, but that’s how I work.

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Chicken, egg, onion, noodles, broth.  If it is true what they say, that fat= flavor, it is probably going to be delicious!

We still have room for….Dumplings!

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Dumplings are always a good idea.   This sushi “donut”, on the other hand…

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…can call itself dessert all it likes.  It’s still raw fish.  I think some of it is salmon, which means I should definitely see that the human female has some.  I want to see that funny, itchy rash it gives her that I’ve heard so much about.

Come on, just one little bite?

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The Pitter-Patter of a Thousand Tiny Feet

If my aching head is anything to go by, the humans have been having a fun visit with the female’s mother and sister, who were successfully fetched from the Big City to the West.  They’ve done nothing but laugh screech and cackle, talking a thousand miles to the minute, sunup to the wee hours and then repeat.

And eating!  Sleipnir’s fetlocks–the eating!  The human female made bacon rolls and orange sweet rolls; her mother brought a big batch of braised beef and carrots, frozen, along with two long loaves of bread; and they’ve all waddled over to the trough where we had the french toast biscuits.

Today, however, we are trying to accomplish a little peace and quiet and some exercise to offset all the loafing and munching  (and munching on loaves.)  We’ve come out to the local woodland in Lick Creek Park in the hopes of dodging the showers and seeing some blossoms.  It’s been such a cold and rainy spring that there isn’t much in flower.  The birds are singing, though, so that’s something.

Wait!  Sigyn–did you see something move?  Look–right there!  We appear to have stumbled upon some very industrious hymenopterans!

I’ll just magic a video link up there so other people can see, too.

I wonder what they’re going to do with all of that foliaceous confetti?  And I wonder if they could be induced to follow us home and commit snippage on the human female’s landscaping?

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Fetching the Family, Part IV: The Fetching Place

We have made it, finally, to the airport, in plenty of time to pick up the relatives, who are coming in on different flights, but both at the same terminal.  This is the city where the rival to the humans’ university is, but at the moment, there’s a big Music/ Film/ Tech/ Entertainment festival going on, and A&M, hoping to gain some exposure, has paid an arm and a leg and plastered every plasterable inch with maroon and white advertising.

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The camera says, “purple,” but it’s really maroon.  I can see six signs and a video screen from where I sit.  Overkill, much?

Sigyn, we have a little time to look around, since the sister’s plane is late.   For starters, what’s going on with the floor?

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They can’t mean that the capitol square is in the airport?  Not even Midgardians could be that daft.

Oh, now I see.  It’s a map of the city.  (Plus a yellow reflection.)

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Ehehehehe!  Sigyn is pretending to splash and swim in the Colorado.

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Take care, my love!  We wouldn’t want you to drown!

There’s a statue just over there.  No one seems to know who he is.

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Oops.  Sigyn says it’s a lady, Barbara Jordan, who was a lawyer, teacher and Civil Rights leader.  That is all well and good, but when I take over the planet, I will be making the laws, and you can be sure I will be doling out the rights with a demitasse spoon.

What is that booth-thingy over there?

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A flower-vending machine!  What a clever device!  Sigyn, my love, would you like a bouquet?  I didn’t bring a credit card, but I could go pick the human male’s pocket.

Great Frigga’s hairpins!  I hear squealing.  The sister has arrived–can the mother be far behind?  I fear I have just had the last quiet moment I will have for four days.  May the norns have mercy upon my poor nerves!

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Fetching the Family, Part I: A Bite of Lunch

The human female’s mother (whom I very much like) and sister (whom I tolerate–she’s too much like the human female) are coming for a visit.  This may be a good thing ( the mother cooks and is very kind), or it may be a disaster—there is sure to be more giggling than I can reasonably be expected to endure.  I suppose I can always go to an inn if the silliness becomes too much.

They are both flying into the Big City to the West, so we have to go fetch them.  It would be a long-but-pleasant drive if not for the human female’s tendency to moo at cows as we pass and point out every wildflower on the roadside.  Are we there yet?

(Later.)  We are now in the Big City to the West.  We have a bit of time before the guests will touch down at the airport, so we’ve decided to get some lunch.  Ever ones for something new, the humans have selected an Asian cafe in a strip mall somewhere.

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A quick glance shows Korean, Japanese, Thai, and “British-inspired” dishes, and I’m fairly certain “haus” is German and “potage” is French.  No telling WHAT any of these things tastes like.

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Sigyn is in the mood for fries of some kind but can’t decide between sweet potato fries and tater tots covered in Korean beef and kimchi.  You’ve tried kimchi before, love, and not liked it overmuch. Try the sweet potatoes.

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I wasn’t aware that a) Koreans had wings and b) it was legal to sell body parts for consumption!

We have played it safe, eschewing various body parts.  Instead, we have ordered a bowl of sticky rice with Korean barbecue, pickled carrots, cucumbers, and purple cabbage.

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Poke, poke, poke.  Sniff.  Seems innocuous enough.

<Snarf!>

That was surprisingly tasty.  And because I’m a helpful sort of fellow, I offered the human female a bite.

Now she can go breathe garlic all over her family.

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