The humans have rounded up a couple visiting friends are headed to the Big City to the South. Apparently there is some left-over Yule gift money “burning a hole in their pockets.” I wish I had know that they like that. I’d have been happy to set fire to their entire trousers, not just the pockets.
The first few trips Sigyn and I made to the Big City to the South with the humans was new and exciting and fun. It’s still new and exciting when we visit a museum, but when it’s just a shopping run, it’s always, always the same. Purveyor of Pens, maybe a bookstore, and the Large Market. Sigyn gets to play with beads, if she’s lucky. *Yawn.* These people have no imagination.
Sigh. I was correct. The first stop is indeed the Purveyor of Pens. The male is buying an EBP (Expensive Blue Pen), and the female is actually looking sidewise at a handsome maroonish one that is the same brand as the one that piddled ink all over her and her laptop. She is also admiring one that is clear (so you can see its inky innards) with silver-colored fittings. Too bad the nib is a medium and not a fine. (She has her faults, but small, neat penmanship is not among them.) But wait! The Proprietor of the Purveyor of Pens says he can swap the nib for a finer one. Oh, the quandary! Oh, the moral dilemma! Whether ’tis nobler to eschew the purchase of fancy writing implements when one already has quite the collection, or to throw caution to the wind and take the advice of the helpful friends and purchase one—or both. There are several votes for “both.”
She is going to do it! The greedy baggage is going to doit! Because it writes so beautifully, she has just selected this:
And because it is itself so “pretty”, she is buying this one too:
It really is a handsome thing. The picture doesn’t do it justice. That blue cartridge will come out, and the pen will show whatever color she puts in it.
The other humans are still looking around. I may as well see if there is anything here I would like.
This little green and gold notebook is nice. (It’s actually greener than the photograph shows, and less blue.)
I could use it to write down all of my mischief ideas. Hmm. I’d better buy two. I have a lot of ideas.
Now the human female is looking for “interesting” inks. While the male always goes for dark greens, blues, and burgundies, she likes to choose colors she thinks are more unique.
Sigyn is suggesting a bold, bright red.
Decisions, decisions. But rather mundane. She’s picked out two with very weird names.
“Brunch Date.” This one is a pinky brown when you write with it. She says it’s “About the color of a cooked pinto bean.”
If you say so. It will go in the new burgundy pen.
And this one comes out as a sort of medium olivey green, which will go very well in an antique pen she bought at her first pen show.
And it appears that two more inks will be coming home with us.
The blue goes on a bit darker but dies to the color of a summer sky. It’s going in the clear pen. The second goes on reddish purple and changes to bluish-purple as it dries–Sigyn thinks it is fun to watch.
Are we done yet? We’ve been here forever. Enough ink! I demand lunch!