Witches Ball, Weary Brain
Nov. 3rd, 2003 07:53 amFriday, Omaha tried to make a nice dinner for the girls, but Kouryou-chan wouldn't let that happen. She tried to make Halloween fare-- chicken nuggets shaped like fingers with tomato dip for blood and breadsticks shaped like little bones. Kouryou-chan immediately and without tasting it "didn't like that" and threw a hissy fit when she couldn't find this plastic silly straw she had lying about somewhere.
I took the girls trick-or-treating. They got a lot of swag from the neighborhood, which didn't make a whole lot of difference since their bags were still half-full from last year. They were cute in the costumes-- Kouryou-chan in a ballerina costume, Yamaarashi-chan as a fox. I ended up bathing them; Omaha was in no mood to deal with Kouryou-chan after the terror she'd been all day.
Saturday, after we awoke, Omaha and I went outside and continued to work on that damned wall. Yeah, it's still a chore, and it's still only mostly done. It's the little things-- that damned corner on the right, and the steps on the left-- that are taking the most work. Omaha had to send me out and on my way in order to get a few things: medicine for her, cat food for Dinah, a chisel.
We finished up in time to head over to Jenner and Desirae's in order to go to the second annual Witches' Ball down in Tacoma. The big draw was that Heather Alexander was playing, but the opportunity to hang out with a three hundred pagan types was kinda hard to pass up.
We arrived early; by the time the ritual began the place was full. There was one couple walking around in the most convincing Neo/Trinity costume I've ever seen; the most disturibing costume was a death mask with a bird apparently about to take wing out of her mouth. Ran into a very few friends there, people whom I knew and recognized. FallenPegasus turned up, apparently having found the public invite website at Omaha's prodding.
When we returned to Jenner's house, we found both girls crashed out on the couch, looking so angelic. It's hard to believe the monsters they were all weekend. Yamaarashi-chan continues her incessant fantasy life obsession with stories that end badly-- and violently. We slept in the spare bedroom.
Sunday, we rose and went home, giving the kids donuts and milk, which they gladly downed. "Donuts, donuts!" went the chant through the whole breakfast. For some reason, though, when we got home I was exhausted. Could barely move the whole day, stuffy head and sneezy, which doesn't explain how I got the bed made, or how we managed to craft a week-long menu, or head out to Costco and Safeway and put together our massive start-of-the-month grocery run.
After returning Yamaarashi-chan to her mother, we made our way back home and made pizza, which is rapidly becoming a Sunday tradition. It was yummy. Then I put Kouryou-chan to bed. When I was done reading to her, I told her to go use the bathroom before going to bed; that seems to be the sure way of avoiding a bed-wetting. She comes storming back into the bedroom and says, "I scratched my foot!" She shows me her scratch. Omaha came in and says, "Oh no! How did that happen?"
Kouryou-chan looks at me and says, "It seems a certain Daddy can't pick his stuff up off the floor!" And in just that voice that Omaha uses when using the same expression. It was hilarious.
Actually, what she'd scratched her foot on was the plastic blister pack for Omaha's new razor, which had just come from Costco but hadn't been put away yet. And then she wouldn't go to sleep. Not at all. Kept trying to get into our bed or wanting a drink or a hug or her teddy bear. Grr...
I did sleep all the way through the night, but woke too late to get to the pool. I made coffee before realizing we didn't have any milk. It's that kind of morning.
On the bus, though, a mother and son-- maybe two and a half years old-- were sitting across from me and I was shocked to watch as she poured a Pepsi into his sippycup and gave it to him. It's barely seven in the morning. I also couldn't keep my eyes from a pretty young lady sitting around the corner from me who had what was unmistakeably a bite on her face, on her cheek between her left ear and eye. It looks kid-sized, the kind of bite Kouryou-chan might have inflicted. Very strange.
I took the girls trick-or-treating. They got a lot of swag from the neighborhood, which didn't make a whole lot of difference since their bags were still half-full from last year. They were cute in the costumes-- Kouryou-chan in a ballerina costume, Yamaarashi-chan as a fox. I ended up bathing them; Omaha was in no mood to deal with Kouryou-chan after the terror she'd been all day.
Saturday, after we awoke, Omaha and I went outside and continued to work on that damned wall. Yeah, it's still a chore, and it's still only mostly done. It's the little things-- that damned corner on the right, and the steps on the left-- that are taking the most work. Omaha had to send me out and on my way in order to get a few things: medicine for her, cat food for Dinah, a chisel.
We finished up in time to head over to Jenner and Desirae's in order to go to the second annual Witches' Ball down in Tacoma. The big draw was that Heather Alexander was playing, but the opportunity to hang out with a three hundred pagan types was kinda hard to pass up.
We arrived early; by the time the ritual began the place was full. There was one couple walking around in the most convincing Neo/Trinity costume I've ever seen; the most disturibing costume was a death mask with a bird apparently about to take wing out of her mouth. Ran into a very few friends there, people whom I knew and recognized. FallenPegasus turned up, apparently having found the public invite website at Omaha's prodding.
When we returned to Jenner's house, we found both girls crashed out on the couch, looking so angelic. It's hard to believe the monsters they were all weekend. Yamaarashi-chan continues her incessant fantasy life obsession with stories that end badly-- and violently. We slept in the spare bedroom.
Sunday, we rose and went home, giving the kids donuts and milk, which they gladly downed. "Donuts, donuts!" went the chant through the whole breakfast. For some reason, though, when we got home I was exhausted. Could barely move the whole day, stuffy head and sneezy, which doesn't explain how I got the bed made, or how we managed to craft a week-long menu, or head out to Costco and Safeway and put together our massive start-of-the-month grocery run.
After returning Yamaarashi-chan to her mother, we made our way back home and made pizza, which is rapidly becoming a Sunday tradition. It was yummy. Then I put Kouryou-chan to bed. When I was done reading to her, I told her to go use the bathroom before going to bed; that seems to be the sure way of avoiding a bed-wetting. She comes storming back into the bedroom and says, "I scratched my foot!" She shows me her scratch. Omaha came in and says, "Oh no! How did that happen?"
Kouryou-chan looks at me and says, "It seems a certain Daddy can't pick his stuff up off the floor!" And in just that voice that Omaha uses when using the same expression. It was hilarious.
Actually, what she'd scratched her foot on was the plastic blister pack for Omaha's new razor, which had just come from Costco but hadn't been put away yet. And then she wouldn't go to sleep. Not at all. Kept trying to get into our bed or wanting a drink or a hug or her teddy bear. Grr...
I did sleep all the way through the night, but woke too late to get to the pool. I made coffee before realizing we didn't have any milk. It's that kind of morning.
On the bus, though, a mother and son-- maybe two and a half years old-- were sitting across from me and I was shocked to watch as she poured a Pepsi into his sippycup and gave it to him. It's barely seven in the morning. I also couldn't keep my eyes from a pretty young lady sitting around the corner from me who had what was unmistakeably a bite on her face, on her cheek between her left ear and eye. It looks kid-sized, the kind of bite Kouryou-chan might have inflicted. Very strange.
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