what IS it with sigyn and glassware?

Do-it-yourself Mischief

The humans are still mired in the ongoing home-repairs resulting from last year’s bad weather and subsequent mishaps. The workmen finally came to fix the fallen-in garage ceiling (where something heavy fell through the sheetrock), and while they were there, the humans had them fix the places in the living room where the tape-and-float and plaster work at the top of the front wall had come undone in a Most Unsightly Manner. (The roofers stomping and pounding and dropping things up there didn’t help any, and there were plaster bits missing in several spots.)

The plaster repairs looked awful in progress, but the end result was satisfactory–except for the fact that all the work was nowhere near the color of the walls and stuck out like six sore thumbs. At this point, I suggested to the humans that of course they could do the paintwork themselves, and there was no need to hire someone to do it! After all, they painted the whole house when they moved in, didn’t they?

And thus, we find ourselves today at the Do-It-Yourselfatorium to purchase paint and painting accoutrements. There are so many colors of paint to choose from! Sigyn, of course, thinks we should go with something in this part of the spectrum.

That is lovely, my dear, but have you considered how timeless, how classic a good deep green can be?

The human female is always saying she’d like to live in an English country house. Well, woman, I can’t think of anything that says, “Library in the Manor” more than “Fresh Arugala” or “Soccer Pitch” (Why do paint colors all have such ridiculous names? And why couldn’t they spell “Arugula” correctly? And if it’s an English country house, shouldn’t that color be “Football Pitch”? But I digress.)

If you don’t want dark green, you could opt for something from the Nausea Collection.

Great Frigga’s Corset, the humans are boring! Being being frugal cheap misers, they originally painted the living room in plain, untinted white, thinking that it would make any future repainting easy to match. And here we go–one gallon of plain base white flat interior latex. (I think that needs a few more adjectives.) Now we just need tools and whatnot.

Mind you, I am fairly certain that there are painting tools in the garage at home, but finding them could take years and cost dozens of lives… (The side of the garage the humans had to clear to allow for the ceiling repair got cleaned out and thoroughly sorted and looks great, but all the painting stuff is on the other side, the one that scares even me…)

My sweetie wants to know if we can please get this “cute little mini roller.”

Sure! Put it in the cart. The humans are paying. If it doesn’t get used for the walls, I’m sure it could see duty in the kitchen, applying an even coat of melted butter to toast.

(a bit later) Trim brush, rollers, paint tray, painter’s tape, and one of those spongy little dabber thingies. All set!

Far be it from me, however, to let opportunity slip away. I want to see what other potential mischief supplies are here.

This looks promising.

Pro Tip: Whenever you can’t think of any other crimes to commit, sticking something to something else that it shouldn’t be stuck to is always good mischief. In this case, 200% stronger than regular mischief alone.

I am confused… There is such a thing as paint hardener?

Do mortals actually harden leftover paint before disposal? Do they not just use it up by graffiti-ing rude words and crude naughty drawings on available vertical surfaces (preferably the walls of their oafish brother’s rooms)? Or is that just a “me” thing?

I’ll ask again—are we absolutely certain that there isn’t something that needs sticking to something else? Because they have duct tape in all sorts of non-boring colors. Three guesses who wants what.

All right. I think we may be done here. We have paint, tools, and some good ideas for future mischief. Sigyn, are you ready to leave?

Sigyn? Did anyone see where she went? She was right here a moment ago!

She’s not in Plumbing.

Not in Lumber.

Not even, surprisingly, in the Garden Center.

Not in Appliances.

Ah.

Lighting.

Hang on, sweetie. Loki’s coming.

>|: [

Mischief Update: Let’s Revisit Hel Week, Shall We? Part 1: Condestruction-related Items

I’m sure my many fans and minions want to know the status of all last week’s mischief projects. I thank you for your interest! I have endeavored to not let up the pressure too much, lest the humans grow complacent. I shall answer the questions I know you have.

Do the humans have a new roof yet? They do not! Roofer #4 was incommunicado until the middle of this week and was not returning calls (roofers are a bit busy right now.) He finally surfaced long enough to reassure the humans that he is “working on the paperwork” to submit to Usually Sounds Amiable, Although… In the meantime, roofer #5—who was contacted weeks ago, before the advent of roofer #4— came out to take a look. He pointed out that the humans’ current roof has something called “double felt”, whatever that is. That will make it more expensive to remove. He submitted an estimate some two thousand dollars higher than roofer #3’s, the one that USAA wouldn’t fully cover. Between hail storms and other disasters and my own stockpiling lumber and other goodies for the building of my own palace, the prices of construction materials are going through the roof (Bwhahaha–couldn’t resist!), so that the price of the project is rising by the hour and there isn’t even a firmly fixed insurance settlement yet!

But at least the water-damaged ceiling is fixed, right? It is not! The water removal equipment is gone–they picked it up on Monday, despite the fact the water-sucking folks said they’d pick some of it up on Saturday. The house is strangely quiet without two fans and a dehumidifier running around the clock. But there the work has stalled. The company charged with restoring the ceiling and carpet in the craft room, Attempts Total Involvement, or ATI for short, came out on Wednesday. Where the humans expected ceiling repair and replacement of the cutaway carpet pad and a steam-cleaning of the rest of the carpet, ATI has other notions. They’ll fix the ceiling all right, and then paint it. That, they say, will make the walls look funny, so they purpose to paint the entire room. I could have told them that the humans painted everything with the cheapest, untinted titanium white they could buy, and that the ceiling would certainly match the walls if they just used that, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s keeping mum if it can make my day a bit more interesting and the humans’ a bit more frustrating. ATI also wants to take up the entire carpet pad, which means the room must be emptied. Everything must go–the dollhouse, all the quilt fabric, the stitching supplies, the sewing machine, multiple boxes of stuff-and-whatnot, tens and tens of linear feet of botany and art and craft books, and the bookshelves themselves, a prodigious heftage of planks and cinderblocks. There is, I hardly need point out, no place in the house to put all of this. ATI says they’ll pack it all up, but no one has the vaguest notion of where it’s going to reside for the duration. I have not offered the use of my pocket dimension, the place I stash all my goodies, so the humans will have to work something out on their own. The human female will have to pack the breakables herself. You can’t really hurt quilt fabric, but dollhouses are quite… smashable. Sigyn is most worried about the miniature lab glassware that lives on the windowsill. She’s offered to pack it up herself. I shall stand ready to rescue her should it become necessary.

What is the prognosis for the antique sewing machine, the one that got avalanched by wet fiberglass insulation? Unclear. The gentleman at the repair shop seemed entirely unfazed when given the description of what the poor thing experienced. Makes me wonder what Midgardians do to their machines that would render him so unflappable in the face of such a tale of misfortune. What nightmares has he beheld??

What about the sewing light? Did the new bulb work? Ehehehee! As of yet, there *is* no new light. The humans called on Thursday. The person who answered the phone said they’d have to speak to the person who helped them originally, and he promised to pass along a query and have him return the call. (Too many ‘he/hims” in that sentence, but you get the idea.) There has been a suspicious silence since then… It is slowly dawning on everyone just who sits on the board of Obsolete Technology Troubles…

But at least the new AC works, right? It does indeed. I find the sub-90°F temperatures indoors most salubrious and Sigyn and I no longer have to camp in the freezer. The human female sent in the paperwork for claiming the rebate from the city for installing energy-efficient equipment. The AC installer said last week that the inspector “will likely be around tomorrow,” but that didn’t happen. The human female called the AC company this week, and the AC company set up the city inspection for the next day (Tuesday). Tuesday came and went in its own desultory fashion. No inspector. The human female called the AC people, who looked into it and promised a visit from the city on Friday. Friday, of course, being the day the humans were planning a quick trip to the Big City to the South. The human male ended up going to the Purveyor of Pens with one of his friends while the female stayed home to let the inspector in. The inspector has just been, and the unit passes, but apparently the AC technicians forgot a little thingish thing that keeps a wire from rubbing or misbehaving in some other unsanctioned and undesirable fashion. The inspector helpfully left a memo as to what needs fixing:

Perfect! Clear as mud. So someone will be coming back out at an as-yet-unspecified date to crawl up into the attic once again. That wobbly pull-down ladder has never felt so loved and needed as it has in the past fortnight.

How long do you think I can s t r e t c h all of this home repair out? Should there be a betting pool? I think maybe there should be a betting pool—and one of the items should be “guess the date on which Usually Seems Amiable, Although… gets fed up with the humans and cancels their homeowner’s policy.

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Making Do in a Comparably-Sized City to the South

The humans’ favorite international market closed down recently. The human male was saddened, because that’s where he purchased his favorite ginger beer. The human female was saddened because that’s where she liked to get the German candy for her family for Yule. The schadenfreudy part of me was happy at their sadness, but Sigyn was saddened because she likes to go and poke about and try on jewelry and meet new friends, so I was a little disappointed as well. I don’t like it when Sigyn isn’t happy!

However! As luck would have it, it was only the local branch that closed. There are others alive and well, so today we have all jumped into the car to visit the Comparably-Sized City to the South, a place we have not greatly explored before, where there is one we can all enjoy. (We have other errands, but this is the only one I care about…)

And here we are! Sigyn, predictably, has made a bee-line for the first individuals she doesn’t know, because Making New Friends is the best thing ever.

Sigyn really likes their colorful skirts! Shall I buy you one, dearest? Only don’t ask me for a one of those huge pom-pom hats. I think it would overbalance you right onto your sweet little face.

I don’t know who this orange fellow is, but I bet he and Sigyn will get along swimmingly.

Now we’re looking at comestibles. The human male has found his ginger beer, and some of the cookies the human female likes have mysteriously leapt into the cart as well.

Sigyn thinks we should get these because they remind her of her friend Muffy.

Ugh. Friends don’t let friends eat rice cakes.

Let’s buy these!

The human female despises licorice, and I once heard her say that salted licorice was one of the worst things she ever put in her mouth. So, yes, let’s buy some! I want to see her loathing of stuff at war with her pathological hatred of wasting food.

The human male says these must be for me.

Bah! Very funny, mortal. Very funny.

I know where you sleep.

Sigyn has wandered into the housewares section of the store.

I agree–that is a very pretty plate. It doesn’t “go” with a thing in the house, but if you like it, I will buy it for you and it can have pride of place on whatever wall you choose. (We could do with fewer of the human female’s knick-knacks about the place, anyway!)

Oh, now what’s caught my beloved’s eye? Colored pencils? Those are always a draw (pun intended) and–

Sigh. I thought we were past the whole glassware thing? Hang on, sweetie. Loki’s coming.

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Still Looking…

The Eve of Yule is upon us, and Sigyn and I are still looking for her Christmas gift. Today we are out and about, dodging last-minute shoppers and trying to tune out the fifty-seventh playing of “Frosty the Snowman” on stores’ loudspeakers. (People say I’m evil. What about the person who wrote that song? My misdemeanors are tame by comparison.)

Now we are back at that market that has things from all over the planet.

If we find enough goodies, we might need a shopping cart.

Sigyn and I are firm believers that you are never too old to ride in the cart.

These folders would be perfect for organizing my mischief…

If they weren’t, you know, the ugliest color ever created by mortals.

Ah. They have the same kind of personalized chocolate that they had last year.

Last year Sigyn said I was “grumpy.” This year I think I’ll be “hangry.” We’ve been shopping for a while, dearest. Might it be time for lunch?

Sigyn, you are in front of the wrong candy bar.

You are definitely a “happy.” I don’t know anyone who smiles as much as you do.

Even when you are caught in your usual predicament.

Trapped in glass. Every. Single. Time. I don’t know how she does it. Hang on, sweetie. Loki will get you out.

From a bear to a wall-eyed hippo.

It looks like it’s just grinning, but I’ve heard those things kill more people every year than lions do. They’re always hungry. If it makes any false move, I’m prepared to blast it into a pile of gooey papier-mâché.

These deer look a little more stable,

And also very “retro.” I hope she chooses one or both. I’d love to see the human female keeping up wiht all the shed glitter!

This bird looks like the friendly sort.

But this one appears to have fallen afoul of some predator:

Possibly that gluttonous hippo.

You know what, my love? We could spend hours here and not find the “perfect” gift. Why don’t we just do the “cozy getaway” like we did last year? Away from all of the crowds. Wouldn’t that be nice?

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A New Yule Tradition–Day Three: In Which Sigyn Runs Into the Usual Trouble

I am SO glad we decided to go on vacation this year.  It is six kinds of restful, this being away from the humans and the felines!  We are enjoying our cozy camper (last night I magicked up a ball pit and Sigyn had the best time, swimming around and giggling.)

Still, it wouldn’t be Yule if my beloved didn’t get a dose of glass somewhere, so today we have arranged to tour a glass factory.  I’m not quite sure what sort of glass objects they make.  Sigyn is hoping it’s glass paperweights, since those are her favorites.  I just hope it is not something yawn-inducing, like peteri dishes or those razor-edged rectangles of death that come in dollar store picture frames.

Great Frigga’s corset!  This bodes ill.  This is a candleholder factory, and Sigyn has a bad, bad record with these…

Well, this is not too bad.

candleholder2

Ehehehe.  Peekaboo, indeed.  You cutie, you.

Uh, oh.  I knew it.

candleholder1

Sigyn, my love, come out of there!  I’m sure the nice factory workers would really rather you not put nose smudgies on their wares.

Even if it is a very cute nose.

Aaargh!  Right from one predicament to another.

candleholder3

I swear to Gungnir, I turn my back for one minute…

This hangy-dangle globe is going to take more than a little work to get you out of.  I’ve got to figure out what needs to happen first.  Does the globe lift off or twist?  Is there a way out of the bottom, or have we got to get you out of the top?  And how did you get in there in the first place?

Hang on, sweetie.  Loki’s coming.

>|: [

 

Shopping and Seasonal Silliness, Part I: They Probably Shouldn’t Let Us In Here

The humans are visiting the local international-type-emporium because the male has learned that they have his super-uber-favorite candy, ginger-flavored gummy bears, for sale.  They are very hard to come by, so he is excited.  The fool has yet to figure out that I routinely divert 99.2% of the supply destined for the U.S. to my own private warehouse.  I’ve a stash large enough now that I could make him dance to my tune for the rest of his life, just by dangling the odd bag under his nose from time to time.

Ehehehehe!  They have made the trip all the way over here, only to discover that there is one (1), count them:  one bag available for purchase!  The mix of simultaneous disappointment and gratitude on his face is both pathetic and hilarious.  My day is made!

But while we’re here, Sigyn, let us look around and see what else is on offer.  We’ve run into some unusual offerings before.

Um.  Wow.

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Next time I feel the urgent need for punny cocktail napkins featuring cartoonish members of the Phyllophaga, I will know where to come.

Sigyn, come look at these!

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I suddenly feel the fridge at the house is woefully under-decorated, don’t you?  And perphaps if I put the hippo and elephant butts right at eye-level, she could finally make some traction on that diet she’s always whining about.

Usually, when we are here, Sigyn manages to get herself trapped in something.  Today, though, I hopes we’ll make it out of here unsca–

silly-worldmarket3

I spoke too soon.

Thankfully, she does not seem to be in any distress.  While I contemplate how to retrieve my beloved, I can ask this deeply philosophical question.  What is cuter that a smiling Sigyn face?

silly-worldmarket4

Multiple smiling Sigyn faces!

Hang on, sweetie.  Loki’s coming!

>|: [

Fetching the Family, Part II: A Very Dangerous Emporium (Human Male Edition)

Just down the strip mall from the restaurant is a game store the humans have not visited before.  It is clean, bright, and well-stocked with the latest board and card-based games.  In short, a wilderness of temptation for the human male. 

While he is perusing titles and planning how to spend some recently-acquired bonus money, Sigyn and I can also have a look around.

Sigyn is mostly drawn by cover art.

gaminggoat1

Do I need to buy you that one just so you can look at the birdies, my sweet?

Thor’s bitty ball-peen!

gaminggoat2

Can I go nowhere without running into my oafish brother’s likeness?  Look!  He and his stupid hammer are up there under the “ME”.  I hope the rules for this game allow for the the bashing of him.  If the box weren’t shrink-wrapped, I’d check.

The human male has made his selections and is ready to check out.  Sigyn, are you ready to go–

gaminggoat3

Sigh.  Twenty seconds!  I took my eye off her for twenty seconds.   Hang on, dearest.  Loki’s coming.

There.  Safe and sound.  Dangerous jars of dice and games featuring my brother notwithstanding, this is a pretty nice store.  What is it called, again?  The Gaming Goat?  What an odd name!  And their little mascot appears to be possessed.

gaminggoat4

You look mighty cute up there, dearest.  I’ve discovered, though, that if you press down on the base that caprine creature is standing on, it screams like the proverbial banshee.  I think I’ll buy a couple and teach the Terror Twins how to activate them in the middle of the night.  That ought to make the family’s visit a truly memorable one.

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On the Way Home From the Gaming Convention

Well, that was four days of my life I’ll never get back.

The convention is over, but it appears the adventure is not.  The human male has stopped at an odd little shop on his way out of town.  Sigyn, my sweet, would you like to explore?   Yes?  Then let us proceed!

What is this ceratopsian doo-dad?

dino-friend

A taco holder?  Really?

dino-friend2

No, Sigyn.  No, don’t give me those puppy eyes!  As much as I think cluttering up the human female’s kitchen with strange, unitasker kitchen kitsch that isn’t going to fit anywhere would be fun, I really don’t want to spend money on this plastic dinner dino.

If you want to go for a little ride, though, I’ve no objection.

dino-riding

I might even join you.

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There.  That was fun.  A good ending to our excursion.  What a trip this has been!  We survived late nights, long games, strange encounters with ecdysiast eggs, and multiple days of the human male’s company.  We’ve scouted out some real estate, taken a frigate for a test drive, and been invited to a penguin party.  Safe and sound, we are just about home free…

skullmug

Sigh.

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Sooo Many Rescues

We’ve had a nice visit with the new neighbors, but it’s time to be heading home.   It’s beginning to get dark early these days.

Whoa.

Sigyn, are you getting that creepy, “something’s watching me” feeling on the back of your neck?

Sigyn?

Sigyn?

Where did she___?

Munnin’s tailfeathers!  Let go of my beloved THIS INSTANT, you cantankerous, carnivorous corvid!

heb-halloween4

Hang on, sweetie!  Loki’s coming!

Whew!  That was much too close for comfort!  All right, Sigyn, let’s just go home and make cocoa–

FENRIR’S FLEACOLLAR!  NOT AGAIN!

heb-halloween5

Get your freakish dwarven hands off my beloved, you big lizard, or I’ll Thera your pod into teeny, tiny, bony slivers!

heb-halloween6

That is NOT what I meant!

No time for witty insults!   Just…

ZAP!

Are you all right, my love?  I promise, that Saurischian menace will never bother anyone, ever again!

Let’s go home.

I think we need cocoa AND some cookies to go with–

heb-halloween7

I give up.

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