Okay, so they did their varying scans from either end, and the upshot is they found a small something which they believe was the original source of the bleeding. They wouldn't have even thought to look if his blood thinner levels hadn't been roughly double what they were supposed to be. The surgeon wasn't too concerned, but they're taking the thing out on Friday and biopsying it anyway.
If there's one thing I learned from my medical transcription training, it's that growths/polyps on intestinal walls are fairly common. If there's something I learned from 2005, it's that when a surgeon isn't especially concerned about something scary, odds are in your favor that it's not as scary as it looks. So putting these two things together, I'm hopeful that, once again, 2008 will manage to be cruddy without being quite as terribly cruddy as it could be.
I went to see him this evening, as visiting hours at the hospital are apparently 24/7, and he looked much better than he looked at the ER... better, perhaps, than he'd looked for a while even before the ER.
Keepin' my fingers crossed... any extra positive energy ya got could be channeled his way, today...
Oh, on the med balance issue, it sounds like an impossible battle. They want him on blood thinners (as mentioned before) but they also want him on vitamin K for bone thinning, and vitamin K is what they gave him to promote clotting before his procedures. Dad asked the doctor, and sure enough, his meds are working against each other. I have no idea how they intend to resolve this, or if they intend to resolve it, but at least we're starting to figure out what the heck's going on with his all-over-the-chart levels.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Almost Forgot It Was 2008
Things were going along fairly well. I'd sold more drums*, I'd started getting back on track in my budget, and I'd even started wading slowly back into the deep and treacherous currents of writing. Then came today, or rather this afternoon.
Dad has recently been put on several different, sometimes conflicting meds to deal with a heart issue that's cropped up with age. At least one of them is a blood thinner. On Sunday, without going into unnecessary detail, he noticed blood where there ought not be any. Monday it was worse. Today, it was tapering off, but he still went in to the doctor's, suspecting some issue with his newest med schedule. It seemed like a routine visit - they scheduled him for an appointment tomorrow. Then they called back; the doctor decided they'd rather see him right away.
Red flag time.
Before he left, I demanded Dad describe for me just where this doctor's office was, having never been there and suspecting (in the paranoid corner of my mind that still remembers the latter days of 2005 with terror) I'd have to find it if the doctor didn't want him driving home. Just a precaution, I told myself. Then, at about 5:15, the phone rang.
Another red flag.
I had a brief flashback to another phone call, received in the aforementioned latter days of 2005. So it was with some hint of trepidation that I listened for the answering machine to reveal who was speaking. Yes, it was Dad. They wanted him to go to the local ER (fortunately we have one on our side of the lake) for issues relating to possible internal bleeding and disturbing med levels in his blood. (Now, Dad has told them and told them that he reacts strongly to meds - a little for him almost invariably goes a long, long way - but it takes this to get them to take him seriously, I suppose...) Oh, and someone ought to come along to take home his car, as they refused point-blank to let him drive himself.
The downside of being a pessimist is being right...
So off we went, Mom, my sister, and I, in the trusty Taurus up to the doctor's office. I was amazed at how much the place had been built up even in the five-odd years since I used to drive that way to work. Nevertheless, we found him and headed down to the ER for more tests and more waiting.
I swear, someone needs to do a study on time in hospitals. It can be simultaneously the longest and shortest span of one's life.
Okay, to cut a four-and-a-half hour long wait short, the outcome was the following:
1 - Dad is in a local hospital. Half the wait at least was finding an area hospital with an open bed. For unknown reasons which even the doctors couldn't describe (and obviously weren't happy about, as Dad wasn't the only patient needing a bed tonight), hospital space is at a premium right now. I wonder if the mortgage crisis has forced patients who would once have been treated and streeted to rent out their hospital rooms in lieu of hunting for the mythical affordable housing in this area.
2 - His blood issues had stablized and evidence of internal GI bleeding had tapered off, which is Good. They still aren't sure where it was coming from, which isn't so good, but since he'd recently passed a full physical with fair, if not flying, colors, I figure it's something relatively minor aggravated to unnecessary prominence by his cruddy med dosages.
3 - The outcome of all this is that they need to rebalance his meds. He needs blood thin enough not to cause turbulence and potential clots with his heart issues, but not so thin as to cause more bleeding issues. To do this, they need him in-house where they can keep a constant watch on his blood numbers. Besides, with his blood thinned the way it is, if he started bleeding anywhere they'd have a hell of a time stopping it, and they would much, much rather him be in a hospital in such an event.
Oh, and a bonus 4 - After a long day's wait for news in the ER, dinner at Denny's tastes extra flavorful.
When we left (on our way to Denny's, because there was nothing else we could really do tonight by sitting around), he was about to be loaded into the ambulance for the trip up to his bed; he called about half an hour ago with his room info. So now I can sleep knowing my dad is being watched over and cared for properly... and maybe now they'll start listening when he says his meds seem screwy.
* - Since I'm updating my blog anyway and wanted to end on a more pleasant note, I thought I'd post the pics of my latest drums for anyone who doesn't frequent my usual message board haunt. The first two were by request, and the last done for the store because I would never have the opportunity again...
Lioness, Tiger, and Bear... Oh My! And since my previous post, I sold another drum: the gryphon. Both it and the wolf were bought by someone from Sweden, so I've officially gone international. The only two left in the store are the bobcat and the bear, so I gotta get painting again... was going to start up this weekend, but we'll see how family's doing first.
Dad has recently been put on several different, sometimes conflicting meds to deal with a heart issue that's cropped up with age. At least one of them is a blood thinner. On Sunday, without going into unnecessary detail, he noticed blood where there ought not be any. Monday it was worse. Today, it was tapering off, but he still went in to the doctor's, suspecting some issue with his newest med schedule. It seemed like a routine visit - they scheduled him for an appointment tomorrow. Then they called back; the doctor decided they'd rather see him right away.
Red flag time.
Before he left, I demanded Dad describe for me just where this doctor's office was, having never been there and suspecting (in the paranoid corner of my mind that still remembers the latter days of 2005 with terror) I'd have to find it if the doctor didn't want him driving home. Just a precaution, I told myself. Then, at about 5:15, the phone rang.
Another red flag.
I had a brief flashback to another phone call, received in the aforementioned latter days of 2005. So it was with some hint of trepidation that I listened for the answering machine to reveal who was speaking. Yes, it was Dad. They wanted him to go to the local ER (fortunately we have one on our side of the lake) for issues relating to possible internal bleeding and disturbing med levels in his blood. (Now, Dad has told them and told them that he reacts strongly to meds - a little for him almost invariably goes a long, long way - but it takes this to get them to take him seriously, I suppose...) Oh, and someone ought to come along to take home his car, as they refused point-blank to let him drive himself.
The downside of being a pessimist is being right...
So off we went, Mom, my sister, and I, in the trusty Taurus up to the doctor's office. I was amazed at how much the place had been built up even in the five-odd years since I used to drive that way to work. Nevertheless, we found him and headed down to the ER for more tests and more waiting.
I swear, someone needs to do a study on time in hospitals. It can be simultaneously the longest and shortest span of one's life.
Okay, to cut a four-and-a-half hour long wait short, the outcome was the following:
1 - Dad is in a local hospital. Half the wait at least was finding an area hospital with an open bed. For unknown reasons which even the doctors couldn't describe (and obviously weren't happy about, as Dad wasn't the only patient needing a bed tonight), hospital space is at a premium right now. I wonder if the mortgage crisis has forced patients who would once have been treated and streeted to rent out their hospital rooms in lieu of hunting for the mythical affordable housing in this area.
2 - His blood issues had stablized and evidence of internal GI bleeding had tapered off, which is Good. They still aren't sure where it was coming from, which isn't so good, but since he'd recently passed a full physical with fair, if not flying, colors, I figure it's something relatively minor aggravated to unnecessary prominence by his cruddy med dosages.
3 - The outcome of all this is that they need to rebalance his meds. He needs blood thin enough not to cause turbulence and potential clots with his heart issues, but not so thin as to cause more bleeding issues. To do this, they need him in-house where they can keep a constant watch on his blood numbers. Besides, with his blood thinned the way it is, if he started bleeding anywhere they'd have a hell of a time stopping it, and they would much, much rather him be in a hospital in such an event.
Oh, and a bonus 4 - After a long day's wait for news in the ER, dinner at Denny's tastes extra flavorful.
When we left (on our way to Denny's, because there was nothing else we could really do tonight by sitting around), he was about to be loaded into the ambulance for the trip up to his bed; he called about half an hour ago with his room info. So now I can sleep knowing my dad is being watched over and cared for properly... and maybe now they'll start listening when he says his meds seem screwy.
* - Since I'm updating my blog anyway and wanted to end on a more pleasant note, I thought I'd post the pics of my latest drums for anyone who doesn't frequent my usual message board haunt. The first two were by request, and the last done for the store because I would never have the opportunity again...
Lioness, Tiger, and Bear... Oh My! And since my previous post, I sold another drum: the gryphon. Both it and the wolf were bought by someone from Sweden, so I've officially gone international. The only two left in the store are the bobcat and the bear, so I gotta get painting again... was going to start up this weekend, but we'll see how family's doing first.
Friday, April 04, 2008
The Skyhaven Disclaimer and Related Thoughts
Today, I recieved an e-mail from an outfit called Skyhaven Games (henceforth in this blog entry to be known as "SG".) They wanted me to post a disclaimer on Skyhaven Adoptions (henceforth referred to as "SA") stating that my site is not affiliated with theirs. Since launching SA eight to ten years ago, longer if you count the brief time it was an appendage to my nearly-defunct original site (Realm of the Bright Dreamers, now Dreamspire Castle), I have never been confused with anything remotely official or professional. In fact, I have never heard of this company until this afternoon when I checked my Inbox. Curiosity getting the better of me, I tried clicking the SG link in their signature, but evidently their official site is a Proboards messageboard which requires one to create an account to even view. I wasn't that desperate to know who or what they were, but a Google search hints that SG may be some sort of trading card outfit. (Might've been fun to look at, but there are only so many hoops I'll jump through to view a site.) In any event, I replied telling them that I'll have the disclaimer up within a week, which is apparently fine with them. Unfortunately, the disclaimer will be the only new material ready to go with the update.
So, what's up with SA? Is it dying? Is it already dead? There was a time when I wouldn't even entertain the notion, that I'd cling tooth and claw to my sites, but times march on and some things fall behind, intentionally or not.
SA is not dead, at least not yet. It has, however, been in a state of suspended animation, and looks to remain there for a month or so more at the very least. Why? A number of reasons.
First up, I want to teach myself Dreamweaver and make the switch away from FrontPage. (Not only is FrontPage no longer supported by Microsoft, but it's always been considered a poor cousin to Dreamweaver in the web community, burdened with extra code and other crud.) This might require me to rebuild my sites - all of them - from the ground up once I get Dreamweaver installed. Naturally, the fewer pages to convert, the more likely I'll do it, so I've been holding off on site expansions until I get the time and gumption to start Operation Dreamweaver Transfer. Since this SG issue has come up, I'm actually considering going a bit further than simply rebuilding if/when I transfer; maybe it's time to change the name and rework the entire SA concept from the ground up, as Brightdreamer Adoptions or something else.
The second reason is one that's dominated a few blog entries already: the painted drums. Since my November launch, I've sold seven out of ten drums, and I currently have two more requests waiting at my workbench which will bring to total up to nine out of twelve. I've also been told that at least one other area shop would be very interested in carrying my stuff on consignment (the owner saw a drum and said she'd happily carry them), which of course would require me building up more of an inventory. My success here has led to further experiments in other things I could make to sell; the current front-runner is a spirit shield idea, which should be easier to paint more stylized designs on (being a flat, single-sided surface; as much tension as I manage to get on the drums, I still have enough give in the canvas to make tracing and painting a hard, crisp line difficult.)
Third, I've been trying to take my ideas and make them into actual stories or story roots, rather than simply batting them about, which is what most of SA was all about: a holding pen for creatures and ideas, a place to play with them.
And fourth, sadly, I'm just not seeing as much return on my efforts at SA as I used to. The click-and-take cyberpet community isn't what it used to be. More and more are moving into interactive pets, creating them or just playing with them. While I'm sure, given enough time and dedication, I could probably create a more interactive SA, I have no desire to ride herd on the kind of people such communities inevitably attract, the hackers and the whiners and the abusers and the trolls. SA was always more of a laid-back place. The challenges, the Hunt and so forth, were things to be completed at one's own time, in one's own pace, at one's own discretion. Creating content was more fun when I was reasonably certain I had an audience that might enjoy it. Granted, being stagnant for half a year isn't the way to keep people coming back, but still...
Now, the bell has not yet tolled on the fate of SA. I am still building myself back up to template work; actually, if I get the spirit shields up and running, I may be able to work them to dual advantage, using templates for SA as linework for the shields and vice versa. I still want to get the Hunt back up to something approaching its former glory, and if nothing else I harbor dreams of creating/recreating more critters. One thing SA will always be good at is helping me explore beasts and beings in a way that one can rarely do even in a story setting, unless one wants to stop the narrative dead in its tracks. Somewhere in the back of my mind lingers an idea of using SA and the world I created for it (Tirialle) as a basis for short stories, which would contribute to another lifetime goal of mine (writing and finishing stories.) But there are only so many hours in a day, and only so many places one can focus one's attention at a given time if one wants to accomplish anything at all. For now, SA just isn't one of them.
So, anyway, that's where things stand at Skyhaven Adoptions. Still hibernating, still dreaming... and still waiting.
So, what's up with SA? Is it dying? Is it already dead? There was a time when I wouldn't even entertain the notion, that I'd cling tooth and claw to my sites, but times march on and some things fall behind, intentionally or not.
SA is not dead, at least not yet. It has, however, been in a state of suspended animation, and looks to remain there for a month or so more at the very least. Why? A number of reasons.
First up, I want to teach myself Dreamweaver and make the switch away from FrontPage. (Not only is FrontPage no longer supported by Microsoft, but it's always been considered a poor cousin to Dreamweaver in the web community, burdened with extra code and other crud.) This might require me to rebuild my sites - all of them - from the ground up once I get Dreamweaver installed. Naturally, the fewer pages to convert, the more likely I'll do it, so I've been holding off on site expansions until I get the time and gumption to start Operation Dreamweaver Transfer. Since this SG issue has come up, I'm actually considering going a bit further than simply rebuilding if/when I transfer; maybe it's time to change the name and rework the entire SA concept from the ground up, as Brightdreamer Adoptions or something else.
The second reason is one that's dominated a few blog entries already: the painted drums. Since my November launch, I've sold seven out of ten drums, and I currently have two more requests waiting at my workbench which will bring to total up to nine out of twelve. I've also been told that at least one other area shop would be very interested in carrying my stuff on consignment (the owner saw a drum and said she'd happily carry them), which of course would require me building up more of an inventory. My success here has led to further experiments in other things I could make to sell; the current front-runner is a spirit shield idea, which should be easier to paint more stylized designs on (being a flat, single-sided surface; as much tension as I manage to get on the drums, I still have enough give in the canvas to make tracing and painting a hard, crisp line difficult.)
Third, I've been trying to take my ideas and make them into actual stories or story roots, rather than simply batting them about, which is what most of SA was all about: a holding pen for creatures and ideas, a place to play with them.
And fourth, sadly, I'm just not seeing as much return on my efforts at SA as I used to. The click-and-take cyberpet community isn't what it used to be. More and more are moving into interactive pets, creating them or just playing with them. While I'm sure, given enough time and dedication, I could probably create a more interactive SA, I have no desire to ride herd on the kind of people such communities inevitably attract, the hackers and the whiners and the abusers and the trolls. SA was always more of a laid-back place. The challenges, the Hunt and so forth, were things to be completed at one's own time, in one's own pace, at one's own discretion. Creating content was more fun when I was reasonably certain I had an audience that might enjoy it. Granted, being stagnant for half a year isn't the way to keep people coming back, but still...
Now, the bell has not yet tolled on the fate of SA. I am still building myself back up to template work; actually, if I get the spirit shields up and running, I may be able to work them to dual advantage, using templates for SA as linework for the shields and vice versa. I still want to get the Hunt back up to something approaching its former glory, and if nothing else I harbor dreams of creating/recreating more critters. One thing SA will always be good at is helping me explore beasts and beings in a way that one can rarely do even in a story setting, unless one wants to stop the narrative dead in its tracks. Somewhere in the back of my mind lingers an idea of using SA and the world I created for it (Tirialle) as a basis for short stories, which would contribute to another lifetime goal of mine (writing and finishing stories.) But there are only so many hours in a day, and only so many places one can focus one's attention at a given time if one wants to accomplish anything at all. For now, SA just isn't one of them.
So, anyway, that's where things stand at Skyhaven Adoptions. Still hibernating, still dreaming... and still waiting.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Cons and Miracles: A 2-Part Blog Entry
First, the Con.
This past weekend, I attended Norwescon 31, because one of my favorite authors was Special Guest of Honor (Naomi Novik, author of the Temeraire series) and because it had been a few years since I went to a con. Unlike previous cons, however, I was essentially going by myself, for myself. Well, I was giving Dad a ride there and back, but we had our own schedules, and aside from agreeing on a time to meet and leave we did our own things. I only went two days - Friday and Saturday - but I feel I got my money's worth out of it, and the con certainly got its money's worth out of me. (Translation: I spent way, way too much, and I could've spent more if I hadn't put my foot down with myself and decided, no, I don't need that second T-shirt... or the McFarlane dragon figurines... or discounted Windstones... or... or... I think I'll stop now. Budgets are as depressing as limited storage space.)
My personal high points were getting four books signed by Naomi Novik (the first three in the series - bought in a box set - were personalized by the author, and the last was presigned when I bought it from the book dealer) and the Liars Club panel on sure-fire ways to sell your 1000-page first novel (which got a bit off-color, but was laugh-out-loud hilarious.) The low point was the panel entitled To Build A Dragon. Ostensibly, it was for artists and discussed creating dragons by "borrowing" from existing or extinct creatures. Some of the panel touched on that, but mostly it was wandering and pointless, and the three panelists not only had poor speaking voices but a very shaky grasp of dragons in general. They insisted, for instance, that Draco of Dragonheart had a "kitty-cat" face, mostly to make him likeable and good; I recall reading that Draco's face was actually hybridized off a mountain gorilla muzzle, and largely for the purposes of animating his speech and expressions, which was naturally much easier with a modified primate face. They also referred to Tiamat as a "neutral" dragon (true, She didn't try to destroy everything until her husband was murdered, but can a Goddess of Chaos ever be considered "neutral"?), completely missed the point of several dragon tales, and ended with a half-hearted "demo" by inviting a somewhat talented audience member - who, since I was sitting next to her when she was sketching, I happen to know from personal observation practices little to no sketching, nor does she have any real grasp of building up from the bones - to draw a dragon based on suggestions from the audience... which she did in pencil (not a good idea for a very large room with bad acoustics to boot.) Disappointing, but I was mostly there to kill an hour before the last panel I wanted to see on Saturday (about alternate history.)
Of course, no con is complete without the colorful characters and in-hall costumes. I saw (but failed to photograph) all sorts of beings from all sorts of genres, from the cheaply-made "Jedi" robes to the elaborate full-body-plus-makeup-prosthetics efforts. One of the most imaginative was the Kitchen Witch, a wizardly witch with a tall wooden spoon as a staff. Most were happy to pose for photographs, but being a coward and distrustful of my skills in the poor lighting of the con hotel, I was too chicken to even try. Speaking of lighting, I frequently wondered, looking up at elaborate chandeliers that were easily six to eight feet across, how such huge lighting fixtures could produce so little actual light. (Ah, well - it was a sci-fi/fantasy con, after all... there have to be a few mysterious warps in the normal fabric of space and time to contend with.)
All in all, I was very glad I went to the con, even if my pocketbook is glaring at me reproachfully. I suppose I'll just have to crank out more ornaments to appease it... or maybe I'll finish a story. Cons always put me in a writing mood...
Now, the Miracle.
Today being Easter, we headed out to Grandpa's for "dinner." (I refuse to call any meal eaten at 1 PM dinner proper, no matter what the rest of the family says.) Having had thirty-odd years' experience at dealing with family gatherings, I dutifully packed my Boredom Prevention Kit (a canvas bag with my sketchbook, my digital camera, and a book or two - in this case the unsigned copy of His Majesty's Dragon, book 1 of the Temeraire series) to keep me from going stark raving mad. I depend on my Boredom Prevention Kit. I guard it jealousy. I refuse to let it leave my side save to eat. I know where this bag is at all times. (Slight exagerration, but you get the gist of it - it is not something I leave laying around.) So, with the food we were taking and my Boredom Prevention Kit, we climbed into the Sable and headed off.
The gathering went as most family gatherings go; I'll spare you the details, except to say that several times I poked through my Boredom Prevention Kit, as I'm less an active participant in family events and more a weight to keep furniture from floating away. So I know it was there. I know where it was. I know what was in it.
On the way home, since I was carrying leftovers and didn't want anything to spill on my digital camera or sketchbook (I'd handed off the book to my aunt's husband, which was one of the reasons I bought two copies at the con to begin with), I placed it in the trunk, knowing that it, being in the same part of the car that carried the leftover cheesecake, would be well protected and looked after. It was raining when we left Grandpa's, and the rain steadily worsened on the way home, until it was nearly hailing as we hit our driveway. Mom, Dad, my sister and I - four alert, intelligent adults, in theory - left the car without going near the trunk, the better to get into the house before the weather got worse. We did not stop and admire the rhodies. We did not check the tire pressure on the Taurus. We did not pass Go, nor did we collect 200 dollars. We went straight from the Sable in to the house, as fast as humanly possible. To emphasise, it was pouring down rain, and not even Dad - who would happily stand outside in a blizzard to sort recycling - wanted to deal with the trunk in that weather.
About an hour later, we noticed that the rain had slackened, so I figured it was a good time to retrieve my Boredom Prevention Kit. Out I went to the Sable with the keys.
It was not there.
Not only was it not there, but it wasn't in the house. Anywhere. We looked upstairs. We looked downstairs. We looked in the trunk. We looked in the Sable itself. We looked several times in each place, so we know it wasn't here. We called up Grandpa to see if it had been left there, or if it - impossibly - fell out of the trunk in the driveway. I wondered if I'd hallucinated laying it carefully in the trunk. I wondered if I'd hallucinated having it with me at all. I wondered if the world's dumbest criminal stood around in the pouring rain to pick the lock on the Sable trunk and steal the item of least potential value. And then Dad came in from one last search, wearing a peculiarly puzzled expression and holding the Boredom Prevention Kit, which he had found...
Wait for it...
In the Taurus.
"But wait," you say (because you talk to your computer screen - 'fess up, you do too!),"you guys drove the Sable, not the Taurus!"
Yes, I reply (typing it, so I don't need quote marks), we did. He only found it because he noticed that my sister had an unusual number of reusable shopping bags in her trunk and decided to transfer a few to the Taurus since he was outside and it wasn't raining. (The shopping bags in this house are more or less community property, and get transferred to whatever car happens to be convenient to shop in at the time.)
And nobody went near the Taurus since yesterday afternoon.
And never did I remove my car keys from my purse.
And nobody, not one of us, would have any reason to double back to the Taurus for any reason, before, during, or after our trip.
And the Boredom Prevention Kit could not have come home save by the Sable, as it could not have left the house save by the Sable, nor would it have been anywhere all day were it not for the Sable.
And in the recycle bin were still all the little con flyers and leaflets I'd unloaded from the Boredom Prevention Kit just before leaving the house this morning, proving that I did not fabricate the memory of having it with me all day.
We don't have any idea how it could've gotten there. But we saged the bag down thorougly... just in case.
And that is my Easter miracle story.
This past weekend, I attended Norwescon 31, because one of my favorite authors was Special Guest of Honor (Naomi Novik, author of the Temeraire series) and because it had been a few years since I went to a con. Unlike previous cons, however, I was essentially going by myself, for myself. Well, I was giving Dad a ride there and back, but we had our own schedules, and aside from agreeing on a time to meet and leave we did our own things. I only went two days - Friday and Saturday - but I feel I got my money's worth out of it, and the con certainly got its money's worth out of me. (Translation: I spent way, way too much, and I could've spent more if I hadn't put my foot down with myself and decided, no, I don't need that second T-shirt... or the McFarlane dragon figurines... or discounted Windstones... or... or... I think I'll stop now. Budgets are as depressing as limited storage space.)
My personal high points were getting four books signed by Naomi Novik (the first three in the series - bought in a box set - were personalized by the author, and the last was presigned when I bought it from the book dealer) and the Liars Club panel on sure-fire ways to sell your 1000-page first novel (which got a bit off-color, but was laugh-out-loud hilarious.) The low point was the panel entitled To Build A Dragon. Ostensibly, it was for artists and discussed creating dragons by "borrowing" from existing or extinct creatures. Some of the panel touched on that, but mostly it was wandering and pointless, and the three panelists not only had poor speaking voices but a very shaky grasp of dragons in general. They insisted, for instance, that Draco of Dragonheart had a "kitty-cat" face, mostly to make him likeable and good; I recall reading that Draco's face was actually hybridized off a mountain gorilla muzzle, and largely for the purposes of animating his speech and expressions, which was naturally much easier with a modified primate face. They also referred to Tiamat as a "neutral" dragon (true, She didn't try to destroy everything until her husband was murdered, but can a Goddess of Chaos ever be considered "neutral"?), completely missed the point of several dragon tales, and ended with a half-hearted "demo" by inviting a somewhat talented audience member - who, since I was sitting next to her when she was sketching, I happen to know from personal observation practices little to no sketching, nor does she have any real grasp of building up from the bones - to draw a dragon based on suggestions from the audience... which she did in pencil (not a good idea for a very large room with bad acoustics to boot.) Disappointing, but I was mostly there to kill an hour before the last panel I wanted to see on Saturday (about alternate history.)
Of course, no con is complete without the colorful characters and in-hall costumes. I saw (but failed to photograph) all sorts of beings from all sorts of genres, from the cheaply-made "Jedi" robes to the elaborate full-body-plus-makeup-prosthetics efforts. One of the most imaginative was the Kitchen Witch, a wizardly witch with a tall wooden spoon as a staff. Most were happy to pose for photographs, but being a coward and distrustful of my skills in the poor lighting of the con hotel, I was too chicken to even try. Speaking of lighting, I frequently wondered, looking up at elaborate chandeliers that were easily six to eight feet across, how such huge lighting fixtures could produce so little actual light. (Ah, well - it was a sci-fi/fantasy con, after all... there have to be a few mysterious warps in the normal fabric of space and time to contend with.)
All in all, I was very glad I went to the con, even if my pocketbook is glaring at me reproachfully. I suppose I'll just have to crank out more ornaments to appease it... or maybe I'll finish a story. Cons always put me in a writing mood...
Now, the Miracle.
Today being Easter, we headed out to Grandpa's for "dinner." (I refuse to call any meal eaten at 1 PM dinner proper, no matter what the rest of the family says.) Having had thirty-odd years' experience at dealing with family gatherings, I dutifully packed my Boredom Prevention Kit (a canvas bag with my sketchbook, my digital camera, and a book or two - in this case the unsigned copy of His Majesty's Dragon, book 1 of the Temeraire series) to keep me from going stark raving mad. I depend on my Boredom Prevention Kit. I guard it jealousy. I refuse to let it leave my side save to eat. I know where this bag is at all times. (Slight exagerration, but you get the gist of it - it is not something I leave laying around.) So, with the food we were taking and my Boredom Prevention Kit, we climbed into the Sable and headed off.
The gathering went as most family gatherings go; I'll spare you the details, except to say that several times I poked through my Boredom Prevention Kit, as I'm less an active participant in family events and more a weight to keep furniture from floating away. So I know it was there. I know where it was. I know what was in it.
On the way home, since I was carrying leftovers and didn't want anything to spill on my digital camera or sketchbook (I'd handed off the book to my aunt's husband, which was one of the reasons I bought two copies at the con to begin with), I placed it in the trunk, knowing that it, being in the same part of the car that carried the leftover cheesecake, would be well protected and looked after. It was raining when we left Grandpa's, and the rain steadily worsened on the way home, until it was nearly hailing as we hit our driveway. Mom, Dad, my sister and I - four alert, intelligent adults, in theory - left the car without going near the trunk, the better to get into the house before the weather got worse. We did not stop and admire the rhodies. We did not check the tire pressure on the Taurus. We did not pass Go, nor did we collect 200 dollars. We went straight from the Sable in to the house, as fast as humanly possible. To emphasise, it was pouring down rain, and not even Dad - who would happily stand outside in a blizzard to sort recycling - wanted to deal with the trunk in that weather.
About an hour later, we noticed that the rain had slackened, so I figured it was a good time to retrieve my Boredom Prevention Kit. Out I went to the Sable with the keys.
It was not there.
Not only was it not there, but it wasn't in the house. Anywhere. We looked upstairs. We looked downstairs. We looked in the trunk. We looked in the Sable itself. We looked several times in each place, so we know it wasn't here. We called up Grandpa to see if it had been left there, or if it - impossibly - fell out of the trunk in the driveway. I wondered if I'd hallucinated laying it carefully in the trunk. I wondered if I'd hallucinated having it with me at all. I wondered if the world's dumbest criminal stood around in the pouring rain to pick the lock on the Sable trunk and steal the item of least potential value. And then Dad came in from one last search, wearing a peculiarly puzzled expression and holding the Boredom Prevention Kit, which he had found...
Wait for it...
In the Taurus.
"But wait," you say (because you talk to your computer screen - 'fess up, you do too!),"you guys drove the Sable, not the Taurus!"
Yes, I reply (typing it, so I don't need quote marks), we did. He only found it because he noticed that my sister had an unusual number of reusable shopping bags in her trunk and decided to transfer a few to the Taurus since he was outside and it wasn't raining. (The shopping bags in this house are more or less community property, and get transferred to whatever car happens to be convenient to shop in at the time.)
And nobody went near the Taurus since yesterday afternoon.
And never did I remove my car keys from my purse.
And nobody, not one of us, would have any reason to double back to the Taurus for any reason, before, during, or after our trip.
And the Boredom Prevention Kit could not have come home save by the Sable, as it could not have left the house save by the Sable, nor would it have been anywhere all day were it not for the Sable.
And in the recycle bin were still all the little con flyers and leaflets I'd unloaded from the Boredom Prevention Kit just before leaving the house this morning, proving that I did not fabricate the memory of having it with me all day.
We don't have any idea how it could've gotten there. But we saged the bag down thorougly... just in case.
And that is my Easter miracle story.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
