big city to the west

もっとご飯と魚?! 私は昨日ちょうどここにいたようです!

I told Sigyn that, after her ordeal, I would take her to lunch anywhere she wanted.  In hindsight, I can see that I should have predicted this…

We are back in the Big City to the West at the restaurant with the sushi-go-round.  Which you are still forbidden to ride, by the way.  No, no hopping on!  Just choose what you want as it goes by.  Pluck the plates deftly from the conveyor belt!.  If there’s something you want that you don’t see, you can order it off the computer screen.

My beloved has opted to begin with veggies.

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Veggies!? Honestly?  I don’t know if she’s trying to be healthy or to get revenge…  I don’t recall a cucumber among her assailants, but perhaps it is tainted by association.

No fried chicken this time.  No, we are sampling the fried squidlets.  Well, I am aware that they are squidlets.  Sigyn thinks squid are “cute” and “talented”, so I have told her that this is just some very chewy tofu tempura.

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<Gnang, gnang, gnang.>  Very chewy tofu tempura.

Bleargh!  What is this?  Theoretically, it is tuna of some sort.

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I’m not so sure.  I think someone better check the kitchen for an open can of Fancy Feast.

The Norns smile upon us! We diners have consumed enough to merit a prize ball!  This one is a mysterious solid orange.  There could be anything in there…

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Well…anything small.

It’s a tiny pad of sticky-notes.

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These will come in handy for leaving the human female snarky messages in all sorts of little hidey spots.

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Sigyn is more enchanted with the ball itself and is hoping for some snow soon so she can go sledding.

Snow.  In August.  In Texas.  Um…

You may be wondering whether the human female suffered at all on the Day the Flora Rose Up For Revenge.  I am saddened to relate that she did not.  Even though the entire incident could be traced back to her and blame laid squarely on her doorstep, she appears to have gotten off Manx free.  (Welsh free?  Or was that Irish free?  One of of those lucky Celtic races, anyhow.)

No, there was nothing in the whole affair to chastise, vex, thwart, or otherwise discommode her, aside from giving her a phobia of daisies.  I think she should be made to suffer at least a little, don’t you?

She has talked of nothing except beany-goo-stuffed, fish-shaped waffles since the last time we were here.  She has been telling everyone that she is going to eat one all by herself today, gills to caudal fin, nom nom nom.  She has been so tiresome about it that I have worked a little mischief on the kitchen such that taiyaki is not even on the menu today!  Nope!  She has scrolled through all the screens twice and it is conspicuously, pisciviously absent.  How ’bout them guppies?

She is consoling herself with an egg custard tart.  Sigyn and i have sampled these in Chinese eateries.

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She says this one is better.  “Better crust and less eggy.”  The human female seems to be enjoying every morsel.

Drat.

I shall have to try harder…

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私たちは生の魚の領土に戻ってきた

The humans have dragged us to the Big City to the West again, and wow–they have lost no time in rushing to the place with the sushi-go-round!  I would rather leave raw fish than take it, but Sigyn is excited.  She had such fun last time.

Remember, my love?  No riding the conveyor belt.  I mean it.  There’s no telling where you might end up, or who might snatch your cute little self off. Then I might have to hurt someone, and we’d get banned from ever coming back–and you know what that would mean:  No sesame balls full of sweet red bean goo.

You will just have to behave.

Speaking of… We seem to be beginning the same way we did last time.

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Grabby hands!  Sigyn thinks they are so soft and sweet that they’d be “comfy to snuggle down and rest in.”  Maybe?  At least you could have a little snack without having to get up and go to the kitchen.  Just turn your head and nibble…

Will wonders never cease!  The human female has ordered something different this time.  Fried…  Can you tell what it is, Sigyn?   Could be anything under that breading.

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(tentative taste)  Hmm.  Tastes like chicken.  Probably because it is chicken.   Not the best chicken I’ve ever had, but not bad.  Certainly no match for the tempura shrimp, though.

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Tails!  Tails are all that’s left.  You and I will have to order some shrimp of our own, Sigyn, because the glutton has left us just just the crustaceous hindmosts.

Just for that, human, I’m going to spoon a heaping helping of whatever-this-is on whatever you eat next.

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I saw you shudder as you shoved the little pot and spoon away from you, so I’m guessing it will make a very good mischief.

Well, many noshes and tidbits and morsels later, we have come nearly to the end of the gustatory excess.  There is *just* enough room left to squeeze in a bite of dessert.  Someone at the table has ordered these and is sharing.  Any idea what they are?  Whatever they are, they’re pale red and pale green, so we approve.

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Wait!  We’ve had these before, they just didn’t arrive vivisected like this.  MMMmmochi ice cream!!!  There hasn’t been something this yummy, small, cute, and sweet since Sigyn was born!

The human male has ordered something odd just because he’s intrigued by the photo on the menu.  The picture looks like a fried fish, but it says something about ice cream and it is listed with the desserts.  It should be zipping this way on the conveyor belt any moment.

And here it is!

It…It looks like a fried fish!   Sigyn confirms that it is, indeed, nestled in a bed of ice cream.  i have never seen such a thing and I am completely baffled.

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Human male: takes a bite

Me: stares

Human female:  takes a taste, squeals

Well, nail me to the front door and use me as a knocker!  Apparently this is, in fact, dessert!  The outside has the consistency of a waffle or a fried doughnut, and the innards are full of sweet red bean-paste!  In other words, it is a more highly-evolved form of sweet, beany goo delivery!

The human female now wants one of her very own.  However, everyone at the table is completely full, and there isn’t room in anyone’s tummy for so much as a fin.  See, human female?  If you’d shared the shrimp tempura earlier, you’d have room for a fish waffle now.  Serves you right.

台所の他のすべてのおいしい魚は別の日に泳ぐために生きます

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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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