visiting abizona

I Require Sustenance!

All of this museuming and fabric-fondling (not to mention Sigyn-rescuing) has given me an appetite.  I demand to be fed!

Well, that worked better than I hoped.  We are going out to dinner!  The human female’s sister insists that that was always the plan. Suuuure it was.

We are now seated in a place called Haji’s.  It is a smallish place, part store, part cafe. The menu seems to feature cuisine from some other part of the planet.

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Falafil.  Shawerma.  Tabooooli.  I have no real idea what these are.  Some of the words are just fun to say.

Mmm.  It certainly smells good.  What do you think, Sigyn?  Chicken grilled on a skewer and some salady bits?

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The human female’s mother has ordered a mixed plate of nibbly things–stuffed grape leaves, some of the falafil balls, some beige stuff, and some green stuff.

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(poke, poke, poke)  I don’t trust it.

The food has all come with a shaker of spice to sprinkle over the top.

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Sigyn dearly wants to climb inside to have a taste and no doubt need rescuing, but in this case, the screw top is a powerful barrier.  No rescuing needed!  We can enjoy our feast in peace.

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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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Fun For Little Kids–And Big Ones, Part III: This Place Goes on Forever

This place appears to violate the laws of physics–I am sure it is bigger on the inside than the outside would indicate.  (I suspect there is a TARDIS in the basement.)

There is a Noodle Forest, a space in which hundreds of pool noodles are hung from the ceiling, so close together that one can’t see through them.  Moving about in there is like navigating a slowly-waving kelp forest, one with hyperactive toddler-seals that appear from nowhere, ram into one at full speed, and then disappear again.  It’s  more than a little unnerving, but I approve, as I just saw the human female get mightily whacked in the midriff by someone’s hard little head.

Down the hall there is a vast area where youngsters can play at keeping a store—there are a loading dock, cash registers, shopping carts, and an assortment of ersatz foodstuffs.

Sigyn is utterly charmed by the realistic fruits and soft-sculpture baked goods.

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It is a toss-up as to which is sweeter, this pan dulce concha or my own little Sigyn.

So many cans!  Children can learn to read and recognize some common edibles.

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I was starting to think it was lunchtime, but suddenly I am not very hungry anymore.

After lunch and more playtime, it is time to go.  Sigyn and I are exploring the gift shop while all the grand-tots make one last trip to the potty.

Fenrir’s Fleacollar!  Unhand my beloved, you spikey-frilled hellspawn!

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Whew.  Are you all right, my love? That was close!  Lucky for everyone that he only wanted to taste her just a little bit.  For a vegetarian, he looked pretty fierce.  Sigyn is damp but otherwise unscathed.

It has been an interesting day, but I am glad enough to go.   I have left behind a little calling card on one of the napped-plush pillars upstairs.

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The moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on…

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Fun for Little Kids–and Big Ones, Part I: First Floor

We are hitting the ground running today.  The human female, her sister, and her mother have gone over to pick up the sister’s daughter’s four oldest children.  Apparently we are all going to the Children’s Museum.

I’ll let that sink in.  Four kids.  Under ten.  In a van.  In a museumWith a million other kids.  

I don’t “do” kids.

Still, there might be opportunities for mischief.  Small children are very suggestible, and a Children’s Museum sounds like something that would have a lot of moving parts.  Or breakables.  Breakables are good.

Ugh.  The humans are playing some inane automobile game as we progress along the motorway.  “I went on a camping trip, and I took an apple.”  “I went on a camping trip, and I took an apple and a banana.”  “I went on a camping trip, and I took an apple, a banana, and a cat…”  I see how this works.  Each person adds something beginning with the next letter of the alphabet.   It is going to be dogs, eggs, fish, and so on.  Whoever can’t remember the entire burgeoning list is “out.”  There’s a fine balance between trying to remember each item and trying to think up things that everyone else will have difficulty recalling.

Time these children learned just how ridiculous their mother tongue is.  It is my turn now.  My contribution for G is “gnat.”  It will be my turn again when it comes to “K”, and then it will be “knapsack.”  They can also look forward to “pneumatic drill” and “ziggurat.”

Here we are at long last.  While the human female’s sister drives off to park the car, we are supposed to keep the small, squirmy people from running into traffic, falling off the climbables, eating all the lunch, or driving everyone insane by banging all the bangables so thoughtfully worked into the museum’s exterior decor.

Secretly, I suspect the sister is not coming back.

I was wrong.  We are reunited and herded through admission.  Great Frigga’s Hairpins!   This place is ENORMOUS!  The main room is three stories tall and houses an enormous construction of ramps, ropes, crawl-ways, ladders, stairs, nets, what looks like a pirate ship, and yes, that is a flying bathtub.

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Everything is designed with safety in mind–there is no way for a tot to fall through gratings or webbings.  Sigyn, on the other hand, is definitely small enough to be at risk.  Explore with caution, my love!

The noise level is about twenty Midgardian decibels above excruciating.

The view from up top is even more amazing.  Everywhere you look, something has been hung up or glued on or lit up.

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A person could easily lose a tyke or two in here.  Perhaps that is the purpose…  Presumably the Lost and Found is full of unclaimed waifs whose parents are now rejoicing in having a spare bedroom and more (and less sticky) space in the Volvo.

One whole wall is taken up by this amazing contraption.  It’s a series of clear tubes full of blowing air.  One can change the path of the air by means of a system of fan boxes and baffles.  At a couple of points, there are little ports where one can stuff in silk scarves.  The scarves whip around, shoot out one of spouts in in the top, and float

gracefully

down

to be caught and sent round again.

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Sigyn desperately wants to go for a ride in this thing.  Dearest, I beg you not to!  If you got stuck in one of those hairpin turns, I’d have no choice but to blast the thing to smithereens to free you, and I suspect that might frighten the populace.

Let us see what—or who— else is here.  Surely there is something safer.  See!  You can make friends with this… giraffe-oid creature.  You like giraffes!

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Just don’t mention his horrific facial scars.  He’s probably self-conscious about them.

Another wall is one huge sheet of metal, with a hundred or so magnetic gears stuck on.  Let’s put some together, Sigyn, turn the crank, and see if we can get them all moving at once!  Green for me, red for you.

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Speaking of getting things moving, let’s round up the nephews and niecelings (Are there four?  We started with four…) and go see what’s on the second floor.

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Off We Go!

The human female has determined that it is a good time to go visit her sister and her sister’s family somewhere out in the west (waves hand vaguely.)  Their mother, whom I actually like, will also be there.  Sigyn and I have decided to tag along, since the presence of that remarkable woman means that there will probably be some very good food.

We are in the airport of the Somewhat Bigger City to the West, with some time to kill before the flight leaves.  This is still a wild and savage place, home to a rare breed of fierce, long-horned cattle.

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All of whom are putty in Sigyn’s lovely little hands.

There also seems to be an infestation of these strange, gray, hard-plated beasts.

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The armor’s impressive, but they don’t seem to be very bright.

Ah!  They are calling our flight.  We’re off!

Well, the human female has always been a little off, but now we are going on a plane.

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