Well, the latest clutch of Ilmatu eggs did not spark joy, so I took your (and the Kondo) advice and have wrapped them nicely in Christmassy wrapping paper and shipped them to Canada. I figure they'll feel at home there :) I have no idea if theme week finishes today or tomorrow, but I'm going to wrap things up today as tomorrow only has four lines anyway.
A Christmas memory Bartlett was quite as they made their way through Santa's house and workshop, thoughts running through her head. Sox was talking about the appearance of the place being mostly historical and that Santa no longer had to run a sweatshop of enslaved labour as he could outsource it to some large warehousing-and-dispatch company, but it was background music to what was going on in her head. When they were both sat in the car again, and Sox turned the engine on and the heater sprang to life; a blessing in the chill air surrounding them both, she finally voiced her concerns. "How can you be on both the naughty list and the nice list at the same time?" Sox eased the car into gear. "By making a serious effort." Bartlett punched him lightly on the arm, which Sox ignored as he began reversing towards the road. "I'm being serious." "So am I. Who told you that the two lists are mutually exclusive?" "What?" She blinked. "Who said they're mutually exclusive? That's probably my earliest Christmas memory, actually; asking my father why I couldn't be both naughty and nice in Santa's eyes. And what happened to the children who were neither." "Mine is playing with the tinsel," said Bartlett, feeling a little stunned. She immediately accepted that you could be neither naughty nor nice, and that did create a problem for Santa she thought, but did that mean you could be both as well? "I tied it around the cat, I think. It didn't like it." "See?" said Sox. "That was clearly naughty, but did it take you off the nice list?" "I... guess not? I got presents that year. I got presents every year, actually." "So did I." "You don't open yours!" The road was clear of other traffic and Sox sped up. Around them the trees, dark evergreens lining the road's edge like soldiers of some arboreal army, seemed to providing a watchful escort to make sure they left. The car hummed happily at speed, and the interior was comfortably warm now. "Can you blame me? What if the gift box is the nice part and the naughty part is inside?"
Bartlett stared out of the window. "Does that even make sense?" "Is it worth finding out? Darn it, I think we need to get fuel. I remember seeing a service station as we were coming in, keep an eye out for it, can you?" They drove in silence for a few minutes and then Bartlett asked, "So why did we have to get Santa to deliver that present? I still don't see why it coming from him matters." Sox managed a half-smile, his eyes still scanning for the service station. "The recipient," he said, "has very tight security. The absolutely only way a new present could appear under their Christmas tree without going through six levels of security is if Santa delivered it. It will be checked; security cameras will be checked, guards interrogated by their own coworkers... but it will be established that it got there by Santa. And because of that, it will be opened. And... that'll bring a little more cheer to the world this ye-- there it is!" The service station was, predictably on the other side of the road but there was little traffic so Sox pulled a tight U-turn and drove in. The only other car left as they arrived. "Want anything from the shop while we're here? I might get a drink." Bartlett shook her head and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. "Too much to think about," she said. Sox filled the car up and went into the shop. The fridge was filled with bottles of various brightly coloured, Christmassy drink and he took a few moments to pick one, wondering if the colour made any difference to the taste. As he went to pay he glanced outside to the car and saw that Bartlett was pulling the present Santa had given him from the backseat. He watched, distracted, thinking that Santa had given him a gift from the bookshelf, where Santa kept all the information about quantum gift transfer -- a goldmine of information and something he'd desperately love to get his hands on -- and then the counter-clerk told him the price of the drink and he dropped it, suddenly realising why Bartlett had picked the present up. He had taken two steps towards the door before the car sparkled with purple-white light and disappeared completely. "You still have to pay for the gas," said the clerk. "And the drink you just spilled."
I think Blogger might have put the first part of my post into your spam folder again, but since I can't tell what's happened I'll repost it and if it has, you can delete the repost :)
Well, the latest clutch of Ilmatu eggs did not spark joy, so I took your (and the Kondo) advice and have wrapped them nicely in Christmassy wrapping paper and shipped them to Canada. I figure they'll feel at home there :) I have no idea if theme week finishes today or tomorrow, but I'm going to wrap things up today as tomorrow only has four lines anyway.
A Christmas memory Bartlett was quite as they made their way through Santa's house and workshop, thoughts running through her head. Sox was talking about the appearance of the place being mostly historical and that Santa no longer had to run a sweatshop of enslaved labour as he could outsource it to some large warehousing-and-dispatch company, but it was background music to what was going on in her head. When they were both sat in the car again, and Sox turned the engine on and the heater sprang to life; a blessing in the chill air surrounding them both, she finally voiced her concerns. "How can you be on both the naughty list and the nice list at the same time?" Sox eased the car into gear. "By making a serious effort." Bartlett punched him lightly on the arm, which Sox ignored as he began reversing towards the road. "I'm being serious." "So am I. Who told you that the two lists are mutually exclusive?" "What?" She blinked. "Who said they're mutually exclusive? That's probably my earliest Christmas memory, actually; asking my father why I couldn't be both naughty and nice in Santa's eyes. And what happened to the children who were neither." "Mine is playing with the tinsel," said Bartlett, feeling a little stunned. She immediately accepted that you could be neither naughty nor nice, and that did create a problem for Santa she thought, but did that mean you could be both as well? "I tied it around the cat, I think. It didn't like it." "See?" said Sox. "That was clearly naughty, but did it take you off the nice list?" "I... guess not? I got presents that year. I got presents every year, actually." "So did I." "You don't open yours!" The road was clear of other traffic and Sox sped up. Around them the trees, dark evergreens lining the road's edge like soldiers of some arboreal army, seemed to providing a watchful escort to make sure they left. The car hummed happily at speed, and the interior was comfortably warm now. "Can you blame me? What if the gift box is the nice part and the naughty part is inside?"
Greg - at the moment? Most definitely. Lots of cold temperature records broken today in BC. Not Penticton (somehow) but just up the road in Summerland set a new one.
That's some intriguing dialogue. And the ending is, I think for this little story, quite perfect. Also: fully appreciate the clerk's reaction to what just happened.
And... yup, sorry about that. If you happen to get a non-post again in the future, just assume it got dinged as spam and carry on as though it posted - I'll make sure it does as soon as I notice it.
And apologies. I really have no idea why some do while most don't.
5 comments:
Well, the latest clutch of Ilmatu eggs did not spark joy, so I took your (and the Kondo) advice and have wrapped them nicely in Christmassy wrapping paper and shipped them to Canada. I figure they'll feel at home there :)
I have no idea if theme week finishes today or tomorrow, but I'm going to wrap things up today as tomorrow only has four lines anyway.
A Christmas memory
Bartlett was quite as they made their way through Santa's house and workshop, thoughts running through her head. Sox was talking about the appearance of the place being mostly historical and that Santa no longer had to run a sweatshop of enslaved labour as he could outsource it to some large warehousing-and-dispatch company, but it was background music to what was going on in her head. When they were both sat in the car again, and Sox turned the engine on and the heater sprang to life; a blessing in the chill air surrounding them both, she finally voiced her concerns.
"How can you be on both the naughty list and the nice list at the same time?"
Sox eased the car into gear. "By making a serious effort."
Bartlett punched him lightly on the arm, which Sox ignored as he began reversing towards the road. "I'm being serious."
"So am I. Who told you that the two lists are mutually exclusive?"
"What?" She blinked.
"Who said they're mutually exclusive? That's probably my earliest Christmas memory, actually; asking my father why I couldn't be both naughty and nice in Santa's eyes. And what happened to the children who were neither."
"Mine is playing with the tinsel," said Bartlett, feeling a little stunned. She immediately accepted that you could be neither naughty nor nice, and that did create a problem for Santa she thought, but did that mean you could be both as well? "I tied it around the cat, I think. It didn't like it."
"See?" said Sox. "That was clearly naughty, but did it take you off the nice list?"
"I... guess not? I got presents that year. I got presents every year, actually."
"So did I."
"You don't open yours!"
The road was clear of other traffic and Sox sped up. Around them the trees, dark evergreens lining the road's edge like soldiers of some arboreal army, seemed to providing a watchful escort to make sure they left. The car hummed happily at speed, and the interior was comfortably warm now.
"Can you blame me? What if the gift box is the nice part and the naughty part is inside?"
Bartlett stared out of the window. "Does that even make sense?"
"Is it worth finding out? Darn it, I think we need to get fuel. I remember seeing a service station as we were coming in, keep an eye out for it, can you?"
They drove in silence for a few minutes and then Bartlett asked, "So why did we have to get Santa to deliver that present? I still don't see why it coming from him matters."
Sox managed a half-smile, his eyes still scanning for the service station. "The recipient," he said, "has very tight security. The absolutely only way a new present could appear under their Christmas tree without going through six levels of security is if Santa delivered it. It will be checked; security cameras will be checked, guards interrogated by their own coworkers... but it will be established that it got there by Santa. And because of that, it will be opened. And... that'll bring a little more cheer to the world this ye-- there it is!"
The service station was, predictably on the other side of the road but there was little traffic so Sox pulled a tight U-turn and drove in. The only other car left as they arrived. "Want anything from the shop while we're here? I might get a drink."
Bartlett shook her head and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. "Too much to think about," she said.
Sox filled the car up and went into the shop. The fridge was filled with bottles of various brightly coloured, Christmassy drink and he took a few moments to pick one, wondering if the colour made any difference to the taste. As he went to pay he glanced outside to the car and saw that Bartlett was pulling the present Santa had given him from the backseat. He watched, distracted, thinking that Santa had given him a gift from the bookshelf, where Santa kept all the information about quantum gift transfer -- a goldmine of information and something he'd desperately love to get his hands on -- and then the counter-clerk told him the price of the drink and he dropped it, suddenly realising why Bartlett had picked the present up.
He had taken two steps towards the door before the car sparkled with purple-white light and disappeared completely.
"You still have to pay for the gas," said the clerk. "And the drink you just spilled."
I think Blogger might have put the first part of my post into your spam folder again, but since I can't tell what's happened I'll repost it and if it has, you can delete the repost :)
Well, the latest clutch of Ilmatu eggs did not spark joy, so I took your (and the Kondo) advice and have wrapped them nicely in Christmassy wrapping paper and shipped them to Canada. I figure they'll feel at home there :)
I have no idea if theme week finishes today or tomorrow, but I'm going to wrap things up today as tomorrow only has four lines anyway.
A Christmas memory
Bartlett was quite as they made their way through Santa's house and workshop, thoughts running through her head. Sox was talking about the appearance of the place being mostly historical and that Santa no longer had to run a sweatshop of enslaved labour as he could outsource it to some large warehousing-and-dispatch company, but it was background music to what was going on in her head. When they were both sat in the car again, and Sox turned the engine on and the heater sprang to life; a blessing in the chill air surrounding them both, she finally voiced her concerns.
"How can you be on both the naughty list and the nice list at the same time?"
Sox eased the car into gear. "By making a serious effort."
Bartlett punched him lightly on the arm, which Sox ignored as he began reversing towards the road. "I'm being serious."
"So am I. Who told you that the two lists are mutually exclusive?"
"What?" She blinked.
"Who said they're mutually exclusive? That's probably my earliest Christmas memory, actually; asking my father why I couldn't be both naughty and nice in Santa's eyes. And what happened to the children who were neither."
"Mine is playing with the tinsel," said Bartlett, feeling a little stunned. She immediately accepted that you could be neither naughty nor nice, and that did create a problem for Santa she thought, but did that mean you could be both as well? "I tied it around the cat, I think. It didn't like it."
"See?" said Sox. "That was clearly naughty, but did it take you off the nice list?"
"I... guess not? I got presents that year. I got presents every year, actually."
"So did I."
"You don't open yours!"
The road was clear of other traffic and Sox sped up. Around them the trees, dark evergreens lining the road's edge like soldiers of some arboreal army, seemed to providing a watchful escort to make sure they left. The car hummed happily at speed, and the interior was comfortably warm now.
"Can you blame me? What if the gift box is the nice part and the naughty part is inside?"
I think your spam filter has deleted the first part of my post twice now (sigh)
Greg - at the moment? Most definitely. Lots of cold temperature records broken today in BC. Not Penticton (somehow) but just up the road in Summerland set a new one.
That's some intriguing dialogue. And the ending is, I think for this little story, quite perfect. Also: fully appreciate the clerk's reaction to what just happened.
And... yup, sorry about that. If you happen to get a non-post again in the future, just assume it got dinged as spam and carry on as though it posted - I'll make sure it does as soon as I notice it.
And apologies. I really have no idea why some do while most don't.
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