May 12, 1999
Legalities and Pens
I dreamed odd dreams... of being bodyguard to a prince whose parents were thrown out of their throne by a military junta hungry for power. We were hunted, so walked the streets at night. I was always on the look-out for his safety and we were lovers as well. Made it that much more imperative that he be kept safe. The fights were swift and savage with something of practial violence to them, sharp and flashing and quick and very, very quiet. He wasn't so much trying to get his power back as hungry for vengence, to destroy the powers that destroyed his life and I worked with him in that. Munitions and wires, timers and bombs, and all the thousand small insurrections of destruction. It was a dream that spanned a year or two, I think of dream life time.
When I woke up I was mildly disoriented for a bit, and then remembered my real life solidly.
Took the Passat over to Ft. Lupton to get the plates for itself and Borax. Turns out that if you have the paperwork, you can just get the plates there, as there's a Weld County office in Ft. Lupton, where we did the plates last time, for the Rangy and the Stoat. In town we'd spotted a little diner called Granny's Diner, that looked like it was local and pretty good. So we went in there for breakfast and were first greeted by a whole diner filled with local patrons and secondly by a thin cloud of cigarette smoke. It was definitely a smoking joint. They did everything just a bit too greasily for my taste, even the eggs were swimming in oil, and the corned beef hash and hash browns were too mushy for my taste. I ate all the toast and drank the fairly good coffee.
I think diner coffee is nearly always pretty good, as it's always fresh, if they're busy.
But it was somewhat disappointing, and when we went to the registration offices, it turned even more odd as they'd swapped the staff out to train them on some things, so they had all replacement people. The lady that we got was normally the county secretary, so ran everything, and didn't really know, that well, the whole registration process. She knew what had to be done, but not how, so it took her quite a bit longer to do it. But we paid our monies, including the sales tax on Borax, nice thing is that here it's only three percent, not eight or up to nine the way it was in Washington, and then zoomed back home.
There was a guy in the yard.
Turned out he was from the cable company, and was marking all the cables in the yard to let the cable company do the digging it needed to do to get the cable line to our house. The entire yard is now marked in orange, yellow, blue, green strips and tiny little flags of all sorts. Fezzik was watching from his nest in the grass by the house, and his fur hasn't been marked, yet. So I guess he's been fairly friendly to everyone that's come by, which is a good thing.
He even opened the gate for us on the way in. That was cool. We rummaged about the house to get all the things we needed and John called the insurance company to get Borax insured, and then we got into the shining white truck and sailed on out of there. It was really cool. It's smooth and powerful but just as tall as the other Landies, it *drives* like a Landy, but the engine and gearing is very much that of a modern car. Tighter and more willing to do higher speeds. That was very weird.
Made it to work a bit late for a meeting, so we went running up the stairs, set things up, and then went down to the meeting room that it was supposed to be in and found *other* people in the room. John then went back upstairs and started, methodically, to go by every meeting room in the upper floor. I, meanwhile, just sat at my desk and then John's phone started to rings. So I picked it up, answered it, "John Rostykus' desk." and was greeted by "Phyllis, is that you?" from my new boss. "Hyup. Where are you?" "Avalanche." "Oh, okay. Where's Avalanche?" and after some explanation on the phone, I went out to look for John and then tug him in the right direction.
As we went through applications, one head popped up and asked John, "Who owns that new 90 out there?" John didn't answer or hear, I think, so I caught the guy's eye and just pointed at John. The guy just shook his head and went back into this cubicle.
I think our reputation proceeds us.
The day was all meetings of one type or another, surprisingly productive meetings, though, which always amazes me, here. Anyway, it went on all day, pretty much. We even stayed pretty late to set things up so that we could make a morning meeting tomorrow with everything in place.
Between meeting bits, Kathy introduced me to the world of Parker Vacuumatics. They're a kind of fountain pen, is one way of putting it. Another way of putting it is this. But that's in full, technical detail, and the things are just also very pretty. Anyway, she got me into them enough that I went and bid on one on ebay and won the bidding. It needs fixing, but she said that she'd sent me a book the night before.
After work we zoomed right home. I came to a screeching halt when I opened the mailbox and Kathy's copy of Da Book by Frank Dubiel was in there. I avidly read the section on Vacuumatic repair a few times, finally tore myself away from it as it was getting really, truly late; and I put my dinner plans into action. In about the time it took to boil water and cook the egg noodles, we had beef strogonoff with onions, parsley, sour cream and herby chicken stock as well as the left-over steak in it. It turned out flavorful and creamy and I just added the beef at the very last instant to keep it tender. Yum.
Yeah. Good cooking really can be really, really quick when done right and planned for just a little in advance. I really enjoy what I've been learning with day-in and day-out cooking of dinners when I can.
By the time dinner was over it was already well after ten p.m. so we just watched a little news, and then I felt really tired, so I went to bed. John followed soon after, and sleep was very, very nice