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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.

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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…

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*pics or it didn’t happen

Labels are Very Important

I am continuing my exploration of the Room of Dead Things.  Today I am paying particular attention to the labels on the boxes.

The Purveyor of Dead Things is usually good about putting labels on the outsides of the boxes.  (I say “usually,” because last year, I made sure that twenty boxes of the Dead Cat Ballet came in completely unmarked.  Opening them all to discern the contents was like a Very Gruesome Yule.  I still giggle every time I think about it!)


Those are sharks, but not the sharks the human female is hoping for.  She should have learned by now to live with disappointment.

Some of the boxes bear additional helpful notes from the human female or her staff.


I know *I* wouldn’t want to use eyeballs that were past their best-by date!

Even preserved goods don’t last forever.  Larger items, especially, can degrade over time.  Indeed, older stock is clearly marked “use first.”


Hmm. I think I will add a few more helpful label items.  

They say a picture is worth a thousand words:


It helps that my godlike magic lets me see inside the cartons.  Caution labels are always nice:


Uh oh!  Better mark this one too, to avoid a catastrophe.


Ehehehe!  Who am I kidding? That box is heavy enough and wet enough inside that, warning label or no, someone’s going to go home some night redolent of Eau de chat preservé.

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I Bet You Thought I Forgot! Part III: Turns Out There’s Other Stuff Here

Sigyn has finished looking at the (weird) majolica and the glass and  has joined me in looking at some of the artwork hanging on the walls. To say that it’s an eclectic collection would be an understatement the size of Tony Stark’s ego.

There’s a small portrait called “The Clockwinder.”


Sigyn likes the use of light and shadow, as well as all the detailing of the woman’s dress.  I think it’s a stupid outfit to do housework in, and a really dumb place to leave a cello.   I am also waiting for the woman to lose her balance and step right through the seat of that rush-bottomed chair.  Does no one think of these things but me?!

This next one is a lot less full of impending doom.  Lake, cabins, sailboats, someone running on a covered bridge.


See that fellow, Sigyn?  He’s rushing home because the people in the boats are friends he invited last week for lunch today, but he forgot he invited them, and now he has to come up with something to serve them that takes two minutes or less and that can be made with the contents of his larder and smokehouse.  I hope his guests like venison jerky and one shriveled up old onion.  Bachelors–they never have anything to eat on hand.

This next piece is actually embroidery and not paint.  That is some very fancy stitching!


The human female says that three-dimensional embroidery like this is called stumpwork.  What stumps me is how anyone has the patience to fiddle about with silk and gold wire and such or why they’d spend so much time on it.

Sigyn thinks the lion in the corner has a funny face.


I agree, Sigyn!  That’s one silly cat.  He has a Louis XIV hairdo and appears to be winking at someone outside the frame.  Naughty lion!  Who are you flirting with?  Or sizing up for dinner?  Better not be my sweetie!

Norns’ nighties!  There’s another embroidered lion over here!  We seem to be quite overrun with leones factus de sericum et aurum.

This one has a curly coat. The human female says that, when he was new, all those coils would have been bright, shiny, gold.


I think he looks worried.  Or maybe just uncomfortable.  He’s wearing a heavy, curly fur coat on a very warm day, maybe that’s it?

Or maybe…  Maybe the woman winding the clock is home alone in the cabin by the lake , and the man on the bridge knows this.  But he has seen two boats sailing towards the cabin, each one carrying a lion.  Even from a distance, he can tell that one of the lions is looking shifty and hungry, while the other one looks miserable.  Can he run fast enough to reach home before the lions do?  Will he make it in time to snatch up the cello, pick up the bow where he’s dropped it in the shadows somewhere, and play a soothing tune that will calm the amorous/carnivorous passions of the first lion and reassure the miserable lion?  Will they all live happily ever after in the house by the lake, dancing to cello tunes and listening to the clock strike the hours?  Will the worried lion look less fearful after he teaches the woman not to stand on unstable furniture?  

Will Sigyn finish looking at art and needlework and let me take her out to a birthday lunch?

We can only hope!

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みんなでランチをしましょう, Part II: Amusements

There is more to do in this restaurant than slurp noodles, watch plates of raw fish go by, try to keep Sigyn off the sushi-go-round, and hope the human female obliges me by eating salmon and breaking out into something that makes her look like an itchy red lizard.

We have entertainment!

There is a slot in the wall near every table.  As one finishes a small plate of tasty osteichthyes and rice, one pushes the tiny tableware down the slot.  The computer above the table registers each deposition and shows a little animated story.  The more plates one deposits, the more one “helps” the anime character in his quest.

I admit that anime is largely lost on me–the characters all seem so stiff and toy-like, and their expressions scarcely change from scene to scene–but I am curious as to how the story will end.  The friend-of-a-friend says that if we poke enough plates down the slot, we will miraculously be gifted a gotcha ball with a tiny prize inside.

I do not care for trinkets, but I know Sigyn would adore to receive this gotcha ball.  Eat, mortals, eat!  You must consume as much raw fish as possible so that my sweetie can get a treat!

It appears to be working–the screen says a ball is coming our way.  We just need to feed the table a few more dishes.  Yes!  No, not quite yet…  Yes!  Fifteen tiny plates appears to be the gotcha threshold!

Sigyn loves the prize with all her heart and she hasn’t even opened it yet.

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Toss it down, love, and let us see what we’ve won.

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What…?  Oh, I see.  It is a minuscule pad of sticky notes bearing a badly-drawn unicorn.  I think is ridiculous, but all the females in our dining party making that “squee” noise that makes them sound like infant pigs and which hurts my sensitive ears.

Is that it?  That is all?  I suppose to obtain another prize we would have to redouble our gustatory efforts, and I, for one, am simply too full to attempt that.  No, not even for one of the miniature egg tartlets.

Sigyn, not one to waste an opportunity for fun, has suggested a game of hide-and-seek.  I shall volunteer to be the first seeker, as something makes me suspect that she already has a hiding place in mind.

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GREAT FRIGGA’S CORSET!!!  While my eyes were closed and averted, Sigyn jumped on the conveyor belt and rode it!  Ooooh!  Sometimes I just want to….!  Arrrgh!!!   My love, what would have become of you if one of the friends had not snatched you as you were preparing to depart our portion of the restaurant?!  Did you even think?!  I mean, we are in a place where people are conditioned to seize things that show up at their tables, especially if these things are small, cute, and/or tasty!  I might have lost you forever!

New Rule:  My beloved is not allowed within ten feet of anything that even remotely resembles a raw-fish conveyance.

No exceptions!

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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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