Sigyn has decided color preferences

This Time the Human Male Ordered Something, Part III: So There IS a Pen In Here

There is  so much whatnot and stuffage in this box that  I am beginning to wonder if there is actually a pen in here.

We shall keep rooting.

Wait—this looks promising.

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It is at least pen-shaped.  Let me just pull out the bubble wrap.  (We can have some fun with that later.)

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Ah.  It comes out all in one piece.  But yes!

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It does look as if there might be an writing implement in here!  The human male likes dark green, so I have good hopes this will be yet another in that hue to go in his collection.

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Rats! 

Oh, well.  At least we have a Happy Sigyn.

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There’s Mow Time Like the Present

The lawn really is getting awfully long.  Yesterday, I showed the human female how her little-pot-o’-mint has taken over the side yard.  Well, the actual grass is long, too.

Sigyn is hoping that the human female won’t mow this bit, which is right out in front of the house:

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I toyed with the idea of trying to get those pink things to be TALLER, because then they’d be over the city’s 12-inch height limit and the human female would receive a nasty-gram and be forced to cut them down, but that would make Sigyn sad, so I’ve left them as they are.  I suppose it is rather festive.

The human female is thinking of buying a new lawn mower.  The old one has given more or less faithful service for about ten years and is now quite rusty and more than a bit temperamental.  The throttle cable has broken unfixably, so to start the engine, she has to wedge the throttle open with a piece of wood—and knock it out whenever she wants to cut the engine.  And then re-wedge it to resume, which usually results in her burning her hand on the exhaust.  I think it’s funny.  Her, not so much so.

She doesn’t want to put the remains of last year’s gas in a new mower, and the old gas container doesn’t seal or dispense so well anymore, so a new gas can is in order.  Luckily, there is a spare in the garage.

She has just discovered that I have hidden a crucial part of the cap.

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As in, the actual cap.

Off to the store we go!

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Behold the Three Gas Cans of Mischief.

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This new one has an awkward kick-stand sort of thing one rests on the mower, and a clicky bit that looks as if it will break in no time.   I approve.

(later)  The human female has returned with a shiny new mower.  Ta Da!  Sigyn will love it.  It’s red.

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It was a Floor Model, on Extra-Special Super Closeout, As-is.  It didn’t come with an owner’s manual, so the human female spent a lot of hours online last night, trying to find one.  She’s printed out something that appears to be close.  We’ll see if it’s helpful in telling her how to switch from bagging to mulching.

Hmm.  The foldable handle unfolds, all right, but it appears to need two bolts to stay put together, and they were not included, either.  She has now spent thirty or so minutes rustling up something to finish assembling the handle.

Ehehehehehe!  She just found where I hid the manual AND the bolts inside the catcher bag!!

Time to mow!  Vrooom!  It seems to work well enough.  But, human, shouldn’t there be a mulching guard under the mulching door?  Consult the manual.  Yes, that bit right there.  The one your mower hasn’t got.

Better call the dealer’s hotline and ask about a replacement part.  What?   They’re not open today?  Pity.  You can try again tomorrow.

(tomorrow comes)

Human female (after navigating Byzantine phone tree):  So… This mower.  Missing a part.

Manufacturer/Dealer:  Sorry!  That is so not our problem.  Call the store where you bought it.  Here’s their number. Call them right now.

Human female:   It is 8:30 a.m. where I am.  They are not open yet.

Manufacturer/Dealer:  Sorry!  Well, thanks for calling.

(a bit later)

Human female:  Hello, store?  This mower.  Missing a part.

Department Manager:   Hahahahahaha!   Clearance?  You bought it, and I can’t even be arsed to go look to see if the missing bit is here.  “Floor-model Clearance” means AS IS.

Human female:  No, “Floor Model Clearance” means “scratch-and-dent,” not “missing functional features.”

Department Manager:  Says you.   Well, I suppose I can ask the Store Manager and call you back.

Human female:  Sigh.  Very well.

(a bit later)

Department Manager:   Hi!  Sorry-not-sorry.  No can do.  You could, of course, wrestle it back over here and ask for a refund.

Human female:  Grr.  No wonder you appear to be going out of business.  You have not formally announced it yet, but when it happens I will come out to point and laugh.

So now she has a mower that may or may not actually need that extra bit to do its job.  And the kicker?   My favorite part of the whole ordeal is—-remember the bolts she finally found and put in?  I loosened one of them and it fell out while mowing!  That’s right!  The handle’s all collapsey on one side.  She’ll have to rummage around again for her little make-do and finagle it all together again!  And if she’s very unlucky, she’ll run over the missing bolt next time she mows and muck up  three or four of those 5.5 horsepower…

I love yardwork.

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Play With the Food/Eat the Toys—What’s the Diff?

The human female’s tall, somewhat spooky nephew…

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…who, from this getup, looks like he might be employed in the nearest local steampunk abattoir, actually has a job in a cute little sweet shop.  In the spirit of familial playfulness, and considering certain important people’s color preferences, he has brought home a selection of red and green delectables.

These remind me of something, but for the life of me, I can’t think what…

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I have constructed for myself a regal throne.

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It’s a bit knobbly to sit on, but it has the advantage of being nommable if you get a bit peckish while you’re reigning.

Sigyn, on the other hand, likes animals so much that she’s made herself a zebra.

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Or maybe it’s a llama.  Or a horsey.  Or, since it is Yule-colored, I guess  even “reindeer” is not out of the question.

This candy’s neither red nor green.  It’s a suspicious shade of brown.

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Great Frigga’s corset, Sigyn!   Don’t lick it!  You don’t know what it is or where it’s been!

You managed to eat your way through to the middle already?!  That was fast.

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Sigyn says it tastes just like banana bread inside.  Interesting.

Ah. Gummi bears.   Everyone likes gummi bears.

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Your little bears are very cute, my dear, but look at this one!

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Rawr!!!  Now that’s a bear!

Sweet glittering Bifrost!  This one’s even BIGGER!  

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I just hope we can outrun it if it decides to be fierce!

Luckily, it appears to be a gentle giant.

Sigyn, where did you get the itsy-bitsy bears?  Now you can tell the Story of Four Bears–Papa Bear, Mama Bear (who appears to be having a bit of a nap), Wee Tiny Baby Bear, and Baby Bear’s Even Tinier Sister.

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Now one fine day, the morning breakfast was too hot.  “This porridge is too hot,” said Papa Bear.  “This porridge is too hot,” said Mama Bear.  “This porridge is too hot,” said Baby Bear.  “Ah babababa goo!” said Tiniest Bear, who couldn’t talk yet.

So all four bears went for a walk in the forest while the porridge cooled.  They had just turned for home, when suddenly…

…a big Giant came down and made Mrs. Bear into a widow!

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Wow, that went to a dark place in a hurry…

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A-marketing We Will Go

Because she thinks with her stomach at least as much as with her head, one of the human female’s favorite things to do when she visits her sister is to check out some of the food emporiums (emporia?) that don’t exist in her own neighborhood.  She’s hindered, of course, by the fact that taking fresh food back on the plane could be problematic, but perhaps she’ll find something packaged to purchase and enjoy at a later date.

Sigyn frequently loses momentum at the floral display in the front of a market.  She can wander among flowers for hours.  Sometimes she just looks.  Sometimes she sniffs.  Sometimes she plays hide-and-seek.

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Yes, dear, I can see you.

Ah!   The produce department.  Very healthy things here.  That’s so important!   Because you are what you eat!

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Guess the human female has been feasting on these lumpy, bumpy, misshapen, scabby things for a while now…

This store has its own line of products.  I wouldn’t mind having some of these.

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The human female almost never makes us scones.  She must not love us.

Feeling’s mutual, wench.

What have you got there, my love?  A bottle of dry posies?

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Of course we can buy some!  Scoop out as much as you like.  (I think Sigyn likes them because of their color.  I haven’t the heart to tell her that if she makes tea with them she’ll just have sour red water…)

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One of these days her predilection for red things is going to get her into trouble.

Well, huh.

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I have read this label six times now and I’m still confused.  Are these the nests of a fowl called the Vegetable Bird?  Are they nests built out of vegetables that one can put out in the garden to attract birds for viewing—or eating?  Or are they one of those rare delicacies–actual birds’ nests made out of actual bird spit?  In which case where do the vegetables enter into it?

You know, if it’s spit she wants, the human female need look no further than any beverage I happen to bring her…

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A Delightful Lesson (Sigyn Speaks)

Hi!  I am having such a good time on this vacation with the human female and her family!  We are visiting fun places and eating yummy things, and today we get to visit with the grandnieces and grandnephews again!

The human female has decided that the grandnieces are old enough to learn a bit of embroidery.  She won a simple kit on one of her favorite websites and has brought it along as a gift.  Wasn’t that sweet of her?

The kit actually has enough goodies to make two different pictures.  One is a bouquet of flowers and one is this colorful bird.  The instructions are in a recent issue of a magazine, but the human female won that too, so we are all set!  Wasn’t that lucky?

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Hello, birdie!

The human female thoughtfully traced the design onto the fabric with a wash-out marker and zig-zagged the edges so they won’t ravel.

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The red-headed nieceling is going to work on the bird.  She’s decided that she wants his tail feathers to be yellow rather than green, which should look really good.

The people who put the kit together very generously included whole skeins of floss, rather than a few little cut lengths, so there is plenty to experiment with.  Look!  My favorite colors!

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Lesson one is how to separate the strands of floss so that they’ll lie evenly on the fabric.  Lesson two is how to thread the needle.  That can be tricky, especially for little fingers.  The human female brought some needles with good, big eyes.

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I think Loki may be coveting one of the larger ones.  Sweetheart, I’m not sure that’s a good idea…

And I really don’t think they’ll appreciate it if you abscond with the dark green floss…

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…even if it does match your cape.

: )

There Might Be Sustenance Which I Do Not Require (And Some Which I Do…)

We have finished our delectable repast at Haji’s.  The human female, pretending she is “watching her weight,” has opted to take about half of hers and some of her mother’s in a box “to go.”   Pffft!  As if she’s not going to inhale it all in a big, unhealthy breakfast tomorrow.

Or she thinks she is.  I have a midnight excursion to the refrigerator penciled into my schedule.  When she wakes up, she’s going to find nothing but a wilted parsley sprig and some hummusy footprints…

Sigyn and I are exploring the little shop attached to the restaurant.   We could, if we desired, procure some very interesting foodstuffs.

My beloved was immediately drawn to this canister because of its color.

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She thinks the chef on the label looks friendly, and now she’s trying to mimic his expression.  Hmm.  You need to squint a bit more, dearest.  And Odin’s Eyepatch!  Who needs THAT much paprika?

Sigyn likes olives a lot more than I do.

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If there weren’t glass on the front of this cooler, I do believe she’d jump right in and roll around in them…

Oooo!  This is something we might both enjoy!

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Although I know from experience that honey does not easily come out of capes.

Don’t ask.

This pastry-thingy looks interesting also.

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Looks like we have our choice of spinach, cheese, or spinach AND cheese.  They all look promising, so just pick one, my beloved, and come out of the freezer case before you develop hypothermia!

There is a nearly-physically-impossible amount of stuff squeezed into this tiny establishment.  Everywhere you turn—something else.

I may actually buy something.  Don’t ever say I’m not generous.  I am quite tempted to purchase a few articles for the human female.

This tea would suit her admirably.

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And this candy bar has her name all over it.

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(I looked for a bar called Annoying Bint, but they seem to be out.)

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The Crimson Motherlode

The human female and her mother are fabriholics  fabricholics hoarders of textiles.  They both say that they’re going to make quilts with their “stashes,” but only the mother really manages to complete anything larger than a baby quilt.

Nonetheless, here are the human female, her mother, and her sister, ogling the goods in a local fabric emporium.

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I think Sigyn has found her favorite part of the store…

There are plenty of bolts of printed goods, along with quite a few batiks.

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I am not sure what a “batik” is, but they are apparently a “good thing,” with a “smooth hand”, a “close, fine weave,” and a “faintly exorbitant price.”

Oh, Great Frigga’s garters!  I thought Sigyn was having fun fondling all the cottons, but she’s found something she likes even better.   She is now grombling the minky.

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Sweetie?  Sweetie, let me buy you a yard or two of your own.  The nice people here at the store can’t sell a bolt that has been drooled on…

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