large round breakfast

Aftermath of Escape to the Big City to the West–What Followed Us Home

Let us take a look at some of the comestible goods which followed us home from the Big City to the West. In addition to the Large Market, we also visited an Asian grocery store and a couple of stores selling Japanese goods, so a bit of the resulting haul is a bit “theme-y”.

The human male is a fan of All Things Ginger and has a special fondness for ginger beer. He found two sorts he hadn’t tried, and I urged him to purchase them.

He has pronounced the lemon-lime one “horrible” (Ehehehehe! I could have told him that) and the other “okay, but not as good as my favorite one.”

What were those spices they brought home again?

Oh, now I remember. The Ras El Hanout is to replace the jar of Ras El Hanout they bought but didn’t like, which was to replace the empty jar of the Ras El Hanout that they liked a lot, but which I have made certain is no longer being manufactured.

The other jar holds Carolina Reaper pepper powder. I foresee some quality mischief of a capsacious nature in my future.

The human female is, I see, still incapable of leaving the Large Market without a quantity of gummy octopi septopi.

The way she plows through those things, they are sure end up on the CITES list before the year is out. If conservationists managed to breed them and increase their numbers during the period in which she was confined to town by the pandemic, they are about to lose what little progress was made.

This little bun-oid object game from the Asian grocrey.

It is certainly wrapped up in a fancy manner. (poke, poke, poke) What do you suppose is inside, Sigyn?

There is a filling of some sort. Any ideas?

It looks like a fossilized egg yolk, but the human female says it is lotus seed paste. Sigyn is keen to taste it.

That good, eh? (nibble nibble) It’s all right, but I think I prefer sweet red beany goo as a filling.

Great Frigga’s Hairpins! What is this…thing? I didn’t see her slip this in the basket! And she’s planning to eat it for breakfast?!

It’s… It’s staring at us.

The label on the back says, “Anpanman.” Human female, look that up and see if this is even safe to eat.

Ah. Apparently “anpan” refers to a bun filled with sweet beany goo, and there is a comic character whose head is one.

Wait. Sweet beany goo? Dare I hope?

!!!! Anpanman, I think I love you.

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This Woman Is Going to Drive Me to Drink

Long have I lamented and abhorred the human female’s approach to large round breakfasts. She has no concept of order and persists in applying the butter in a slapdash fashion and drizzling the syrup willy-nilly, leaving some little cubbyholes empty while others overflow. Don’t you understand, woman, that each cell must contain the same ratio of butter to syrup for maximal enjoyment? I swear, I’m beginning to suspect she does it on purpose. (Usually I am the advocate of chaos, but I take my waffles seriously.)

What is this fresh hell?! When I snuck the unshopped-and unpaid-for can of squirty whipped cream into the groceries the other day, I had no idea she would come up with this abomination.

There is barely any butter there, the berries are whacked up any which way, and the whipped cream is a haphazard mess. I… I can’t even stand to look at this.

Enjoy–if you can—my love. I’m off in search of a tidy breakfast.

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Starting the New Year Off Right

Sometimes it seems as if the new year doesn’t start on January 1.  It takes a few days to hit one’s stride and really get going on the resolutions.

My main resolution this year is to cause more mischief.  Not necessarily big catastrophes, just more of the tiny, gritty annoyances that wear down the human female’s soul like raspy sandpaper on soft plaster.  Things that will make her fail in keeping her resolution not to swear so much.  (Granted, not many of the bad words come out of her mouth, exactly, but I can tell she’s thinking them!)

Today, I think I’ll start in the kitchen.   She has promised a house-guest waffles.  Waffles!  With real maple syrup!  She never makes waffles at home (only when an inn has a waffle maker), but today she’s going to do it!  She has the batter mixed, but let’s see what happens if I distract her from performing the next, crucial step of greasing the griddle…


Pancakes it is!

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Another Quaint Midgardian Inn, Part II: The Human Female and I Annoy One Another

Sharing the close quarters of an inn room with the human female brings out the worst of both of us.  I accompanied her to breakfast yesterday.  I was hoping she would make me one of those large round breakfasts with the nooks and crannies for butter and syrup (there is an actual law that says inns must have a waffle maker if there is a breakfast buffet).  But did she?  She did not!

She expected me to eat this?


It’s cold outdoors now, and she gave me cereal!  And it wasn’t even the sort with the colorful  cardboard marshmallows! Even Sigyn was put off.  Human 1, Loki 0.

Such provocation cannot go unanswered, so while she was showering, I untucked the curtain.


Water everywhere!  Tie score 1-1.

Then I hid all day, when she wanted to take photographs.  Human 1-Loki 2.  Hah!

This morning, she did want to make herself a nook-filled breakfast, but I cast an invisibility spell on the Texas-shaped waffle maker and she didn’t notice it until she had poured the batter into the round griddle mechanism.  Human 1-Loki 3.

Augh!  She does this on purpose, I’m sure of it!  Just look at this monstrosity!


This sort of breakfast is meant to be tidy and preciseJust LOOK at these sticky-uppy bits!  Oh, it drives me insane!  Sigyn, how does this not bother you?  Grr. Human 2-Loki 3.

Just for that, I am hiding one of her gloves.  It will vanish in the car between one moment and the next and she will spend the next 100 miles looking for it.

Human 2-Loki 4.  Game and match to Loki!

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Dull but Delicious

Phew!  Finally back home, with access to a computer.  I’d like to regale you with tales of all the exciting things I did in the human female’s home town with her mother (whom I actually like) and her sister and sister’s family.

However, it was not an exciting trip.  I suspect “exciting” was not the goal.  No, I’m reasonably sure that the purpose of the trip was to eat as much as possible, stay up late, play games, eat some more, and laugh like lunatics.  In which case, mission accomplished.  (I now know where the human female gets her insanity. It is, sadly, genetic.  All of the blood relations seem to be thus afflicted.)

The Eating Holiday table was quite festive.


I’d share a photo of the feast that was laid upon the board, but it didn’t last long enough to get the camera out.  Volstagg has some serious competition when turkey, mashed potatoes, rolls, stuffing, gravy, and all the trimmings are involved.  I reached for the peas and nearly had my arm bitten off!  Sigyn was quite frightened and actually hid behind the sweet potatoes, which ended up undisturbed near the human male, who does not care for them.

There was piiiiiiiiie.  I approve of pie.

The following day was celebrated as some sort of Shopping Holiday.


I was looking forward to going out amongst the crowds for some sanctioned pushing and shoving and grabby-handedness, but the humans declined to participate in the combat and stayed home and played bored games all afternoon.  Yes, I spelled that right.  I find most human pastimes insufficiently challenging.

At least the food continued to be worth the visit.  The human female’s mother is a good cook.  I wasn’t too certain about one of her large, round breakfasts…


…but it turned out to be a tasty cake make of leftover mashed potatoes.  I made sure to have Sigyn ask for the recipe.  Now, if I can just induce the lazy human female to make them!

I did not have the opportunity to do too much mischief (leaky cranberry sauce container in the cold box was my best effort),  nor did I wish to discommode the human female’s mother unduly.  Oh, I chased the cats around the house at night and made them holler (but not much more than usual), and I made sure some items never made it into the car for the return trip, but all in all, it was an uneventful time.  I am well-fed, well-rested, and ready to bedevil the human female all the more in the days to come.

Tomorrow I shall relate our adventures on the return trip home.

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A micro-vacation, Part III: Nature study is an acceptable pastime

We passed a mostly pleasant night, though the inn’s occupants need to learn about a little thing called inside voices. The humans are a bit put out that the inn’s website omitted the fact that it is under renovation and that the pool is closed. (My coding/hacking skills improve daily. And NO ONE wants to see the human female in a swimsuit. <shudder>) They assume that the almost total lack of hot water may also be due to the ongoing work. (My plumbing skills improve as well. It amuses me that the front desk staff will bear the brunt of the complaints for something that is most assuredly not their fault.)

I think I may have finally broken Sigyn of the habit of trying to sample the little round or square cakes that sit by sinks in inns, so we are heading down to the free breakfast buffet. The human female is known to have decided preferences. I predict: scrambled eggs.


Bingo. I also predict there will be a waffle involved. She is physically incapable of passing up a waffle maker.


Augh! She’s doing it again–Observe that sloppy margin! That uneven distribution of syrup! She’s trying to drive me insane, I know it.

Our itinerary for this morning includes the Museum of Natural History. Sigyn is a nature aficionado, so she should be very happy. I’m less enthusiastic, because nature is often messy or smelly or bitey, but I have heard that this museum has a nice collection of fossils, which ought to be fairly innocuous. The incidence of ammonite attacks is practically nil.

Well, someone at the ticket desk has a sense of humor and a flair for the decorative arts.


Aaaaaaaahhh! Sigyn, always tender-hearted, has discerned that this small reptile is suffering from a sore throat. Mister ticket-taker, you may want to call the vet.

Oh, my ears! This museum is large, lovely, very modern, and NOT designed with acoustics in mind. The milling Midgardian children are deafening! Cannot we go someplace quieter?

Seashells! Seashells are quiet. By all means, let us visit the malacological collection!

The human female likes the scallop shells best. They certainly come in a pleasing array of sizes and colors. Sherbet colors, if you will.


Including Sigyn’s favorite, raspberry:


But we did come to look at the dinosaurs. Which way to the Hall of Paleontology? Back through the pandemonium of small people? Sigh. Very well–lead the way.


Sigyn likes the Dimetrodon best. (Dearest, have you ever considered broadening your horizons, color-wise?) While not strictly a dinosaur, Dimetrodon seems to be quite a favorite with this dino-loving crowd. Beastie, you are very lucky you lived during the Permian, because if you were around today, no doubt some enterprising soul would use your impressive sail as advertising space.

Ah, now this is a fine creature! Just look at those spines!


I thought trilobites were smoothly segmented and boring. Oh, never have I wished so much to possess the ability to travel in time. What a fine steed this would have made! Especially since, with my magic, I could make it huge, and air-breathing….and flying.

Oh, dear. Sigyn has discovered the displays devoted to prehistoric mammals. The murals depict, in furry, winsome-eyed detail a plethora of ancient sloths and bears and other "huggables," to give a better idea of what the now-skeletons looked like in life. Yes, sweetie, the stripey horsies are cute. If they were extant, I would procure one for you.

But not this:


A prodigoiusly-pooping rhinoceros with an under-bite, a behemoth who eats the landscaping? Not an acceptable pet. Or…wait. That is just the sort of animal most likely to annoy the human female. Sigyn, if I ever gain the power of resurrecting prehistoric beasts, I promise this will be the first one on the list!

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