Posts
We met Coral out in the tavern for a full breakfast of eggs, cereal, fruit, juice, and wakener. Pixie was delighted with the spread and determined to stuff herself.
“Wow,” I remarked to Coral as we watched Pixie feeding her face, “I hope she doesn’t stuff herself until she can’t fly!”
“Sundancer,” Coral said, “I’ve been wondering about you and Pixie. Well, mostly about Pixie. She’s a fairy, and fairies usually avoid people. They keep with their own kind. Now, please understand there’s no law against keeping a fairy, and I’m not talking as a lawyer. But you’re about to start a very long voyage. Pixie will be totally out of her natural environment, confined to your sailboat. It might not be good for her. I’m thinking it might be better if she could be reunited with other fairies.”
“ Yeah,” I said, “she would be pretty confined aboard Wind Dancer. She gets kind of nervous out in the open with all that ocean around us. Guess she’s thinking she could get blown overboard by a gust of wind and might not be able to get back to me, and maybe she’s aware there’s things both above and below the surface of the water that might think of her as a snack. And I have wondered myself if she’d be better off with other fairies. She was all alone on that island. I don’t know how long she was alone, but I’m thinking something must’ve happened to her parents and maybe a brother or sister or two. I gave her a chance to stay, but she wanted to come with me, and Sileas told me there were no other fairies on that island. I don’t know if it would’ve been possible for her to fly to another island, so I let her stay with me.”
“And now you two have gotten close,” Coral said. “She obviously adores you, and the feeling certainly appears to be mutual.”
“You’ve got that right,” I said. “But it probably would be better for her if she could be with other fairies. I don’t know how old she is, but I suspect she’s pretty young, even for a fairy. She’s probably still pretty adaptable. We’ve only known each other a couple of days, so she could adjust to a life without me.”
“And you?” Coral asked.
“I’d miss her terribly at first, I think, but I’d know I’d done what was best for her if she got together with other fairies.”
“ Do you think Sileas could locate some fairies somewhere outside the city?”
“Easily. All we’d need is a way to get to them.”
“My family has a ground cruiser we could use.”
I looked at Pixie, who had been keeping an eye on us as she ate and we talked.
“What do you think, Pix?” I asked her without really expecting her to understand. “Want to go meet some fairies?”
Pixie, who had eaten every last crumb of her breakfast, burped and giggled. I giggled too.
“All right, Coral,” I said. “Let’s go find ourselves some new friends and family for Pixie.”
We settled accounts for breakfast, or at least for Coral’s breakfast because Stout wouldn’t hear of me paying. I gathered up my stuff and we went down to Wind Dancer so I could stow it, then we headed to Coral’s family’s place which was in a very pleasant residential part of Candara City. Pixie rode on my shoulder with my hair around her, but her curiosity made her keep poking her head out to look around.
Coral’s family had a very nice place, but nobody was around, so we got the ground cruiser, which reminded me of the floating vehicles from Star Wars, and headed out to the countryside. Sileas had located a place where a group of fairies lived. Pixie stayed hidden behind my hair because of the breeze created by our travel. She didn’t want to get blown away. It wasn’t long before we parked the cruiser and headed down a path toward a little glen with a stream and a waterfall.
We approached the area very quietly, knowing that fairies were pretty skittish about people. Coral let me go ahead with Pixie, who seemed pretty interested in the surroundings. I thought maybe she’d once lived in a similar place. Sileas told me there was a little glen on the island where Pixie and I had met, and she also mentioned fairies favored such places.
We came to the pool near the waterfall, and I stopped while there was still plenty of cover. I looked around, and with Sileas’ help I was able to spot a small group of fairies. I held Pixie up with one hand and pointed with the other.
“See, Pixie?” I said softly. “Fairies!”
She spotted them right away, and for a moment I thought she was going to launch herself off my hand, but then she turned back to face me.
“Pixie love Sunny,” she said.
“Sunny loves Pixie,” I replied, unable to keep a little catch out of my voice. Then, knowing she probably wouldn’t understand my words, I continued. “Pixie belongs with fairies. Pixie go to fairies and be happy. Sunny will always love Pixie, but Sunny wants Pixie to be happy.”
Maybe she understood more than I thought. She looked back at the fairies, who had seen her but were keeping their distance. She looked back at me. Her wings unfolded and she fluttered off my hand. Then she came right up to my face and kissed my cheek.
“Pixie love Sunny!” she said, and then she was off and fluttering toward the group of fairies.
I wanted to say “Sunny loves Pixie” again, but my voice wouldn’t work and my vision was getting watery. I watched as she approached the fairies. I could hear her making fairy sounds, which were pretty high-pitched, and I heard “Pixie” in there. My heart was shattering into a million pieces. I decided I’d better quietly slip away before I lost it altogether.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Sundancer's Fairy Tale - 8
Pixie had gotten shy and had hidden behind my hair when we went into the tavern, but once I started playing she was back out dancing in the air and fluttering off to get coins between tunes. Once again I combined fiddle playing with my sunset dance, and Pixie danced about and collected coins afterward.
Once Pixie had finished collecting coins she settled on my shoulder. Along with Coral, we headed to the Harborside for a meal. Pixie was given a small plate of goodies and a little cup of ale which kept her busy while Coral and I ate and talked. We were near the bar. One of the bar patrons called to the bartender for a drink, and he held up a coin as an additional attention-getter.
He got Pixie’s attention and she was off in a flash. She plucked the coin from the dahr’s hand and fluttered over to me, looking pretty pleased with herself.
“Pixie, no!” I said sharply. I grabbed the coin, got up, and met the dahr halfway between his stool and my chair.
“That little fairy’s quite the accomplished thief, isn’t she?” he said. He didn’t look at all amused.
“No, she isn’t,” I said, handing him his coin. “She hasn’t been around people very much. She’s learned to take coins people are offering me for my fiddle playing, but I don’t think she’s learned that people use coins to pay for other things too. I’m really sorry she took your coin. I only take what I’ve earned, and I need to train her to know the difference.”
“Black-headed fairies are just like blackpelts,” he said gruffly, “natural-born thieves, all of them.”
“I don’t agree with that,” I said firmly. “Pixie just hasn’t had time to learn. I’ll teach her.”
I turned back to take my seat. I’d first thought of offering to buy him a drink, but his attitude toward Pixie and blackpelts had squelched that idea quickly. Pixie had taken refuge by perching on my shoulder up against my neck with my hair pulled around her. I could feel her trembling there. I sat down and coaxed her out. She got onto my hand and I held her up in front of me.
“Sunny loves Pixie,” I said. I kissed the tip of my free index finger and pressed it to her cheek.
“Pixie love Sunny,” she said, grabbing my finger and kissing the tip of it.
I got her to sit on the edge of the table and reached down for my fiddle.
“Coral, could you get out a coin?” I asked. “I want to teach her when it’s all right to take coins from people. She seems to catch on to things pretty quickly, so this shouldn’t take long.”
“Of course, Sunny,” Coral said. She reached into her purse and got one out.
I played, softly, a little bit of a tune and nodded to Coral, who held up the coin and called out Pixie’s name. Pixie looked at Coral holding the coin up and looked at me. I nodded and motioned my head toward Coral. We had to do that several times, then Pixie fluttered up and took the coin from Coral and fluttered over to me with it. I stopped playing and took the coin.
“Good Pixie!” I said to her.
Then I put the fiddle down in the case on the floor beside me, and as I did, I passed the coin back to Coral. I sat up without the fiddle. Pixie kept looking back and forth between Coral and I as we talked. Our server dahry came to our table to see if we needed anything. I asked if she could spare a moment to help us, then asked Coral to hold up the coin toward our server. Pixie stood up and started unfolding her wings.
“No, Pixie,” I said, and she paused. “No fiddle, no coin.” She stopped, folded her wings back, and sat down.
“Good Pixie!” I said again. She smiled. Coral gave the server her coin, which Pixie observed, then Coral and I talked some more. A few mirns later, I picked up the fiddle, Coral got out another coin, and we all went through the first part of the process again. The second part went smoother when the dahry came with our meals, and Coral didn’t mind a bit passing on another coin. Pixie looked back and forth a lot between the coin and me, but stayed seated. I praised her again and passed on a fingertip kiss to her cheek. Our server had brought a little plate of food and a tiny cup of ale for Pixie, so my little friend gave my finger a very quick kiss and tucked in.
Toward the end of the meal, I picked up the fiddle and we played the whole scenario out again. This time, when Coral held up the coin for the dahry, Pixie showed she’d learned. She stayed seated.
“No coin!” she said. I scooped her up and praised her extravagantly and planted a kiss on top of her head. It made her giggle.
When I played that evening, several people who’d been outside to listen and who’d held coins for Pixie to collect held them up again, and she delighted in fluttering all over to get them. Her cup of ale was kept full, as was my mug. Of course, I outlasted Pixie by a long shot, and she allowed Coral to hold her when she got too tired, or maybe too tipsy, to flutter after coins any more. At the end of the evening, as Coral returned the sleeping fairy to me, we agreed to meet for breakfast. Pixie and I retired to bed, where she snuggled up to me and we slept soundly.
Once Pixie had finished collecting coins she settled on my shoulder. Along with Coral, we headed to the Harborside for a meal. Pixie was given a small plate of goodies and a little cup of ale which kept her busy while Coral and I ate and talked. We were near the bar. One of the bar patrons called to the bartender for a drink, and he held up a coin as an additional attention-getter.
He got Pixie’s attention and she was off in a flash. She plucked the coin from the dahr’s hand and fluttered over to me, looking pretty pleased with herself.
“Pixie, no!” I said sharply. I grabbed the coin, got up, and met the dahr halfway between his stool and my chair.
“That little fairy’s quite the accomplished thief, isn’t she?” he said. He didn’t look at all amused.
“No, she isn’t,” I said, handing him his coin. “She hasn’t been around people very much. She’s learned to take coins people are offering me for my fiddle playing, but I don’t think she’s learned that people use coins to pay for other things too. I’m really sorry she took your coin. I only take what I’ve earned, and I need to train her to know the difference.”
“Black-headed fairies are just like blackpelts,” he said gruffly, “natural-born thieves, all of them.”
“I don’t agree with that,” I said firmly. “Pixie just hasn’t had time to learn. I’ll teach her.”
I turned back to take my seat. I’d first thought of offering to buy him a drink, but his attitude toward Pixie and blackpelts had squelched that idea quickly. Pixie had taken refuge by perching on my shoulder up against my neck with my hair pulled around her. I could feel her trembling there. I sat down and coaxed her out. She got onto my hand and I held her up in front of me.
“Sunny loves Pixie,” I said. I kissed the tip of my free index finger and pressed it to her cheek.
“Pixie love Sunny,” she said, grabbing my finger and kissing the tip of it.
I got her to sit on the edge of the table and reached down for my fiddle.
“Coral, could you get out a coin?” I asked. “I want to teach her when it’s all right to take coins from people. She seems to catch on to things pretty quickly, so this shouldn’t take long.”
“Of course, Sunny,” Coral said. She reached into her purse and got one out.
I played, softly, a little bit of a tune and nodded to Coral, who held up the coin and called out Pixie’s name. Pixie looked at Coral holding the coin up and looked at me. I nodded and motioned my head toward Coral. We had to do that several times, then Pixie fluttered up and took the coin from Coral and fluttered over to me with it. I stopped playing and took the coin.
“Good Pixie!” I said to her.
Then I put the fiddle down in the case on the floor beside me, and as I did, I passed the coin back to Coral. I sat up without the fiddle. Pixie kept looking back and forth between Coral and I as we talked. Our server dahry came to our table to see if we needed anything. I asked if she could spare a moment to help us, then asked Coral to hold up the coin toward our server. Pixie stood up and started unfolding her wings.
“No, Pixie,” I said, and she paused. “No fiddle, no coin.” She stopped, folded her wings back, and sat down.
“Good Pixie!” I said again. She smiled. Coral gave the server her coin, which Pixie observed, then Coral and I talked some more. A few mirns later, I picked up the fiddle, Coral got out another coin, and we all went through the first part of the process again. The second part went smoother when the dahry came with our meals, and Coral didn’t mind a bit passing on another coin. Pixie looked back and forth a lot between the coin and me, but stayed seated. I praised her again and passed on a fingertip kiss to her cheek. Our server had brought a little plate of food and a tiny cup of ale for Pixie, so my little friend gave my finger a very quick kiss and tucked in.
Toward the end of the meal, I picked up the fiddle and we played the whole scenario out again. This time, when Coral held up the coin for the dahry, Pixie showed she’d learned. She stayed seated.
“No coin!” she said. I scooped her up and praised her extravagantly and planted a kiss on top of her head. It made her giggle.
When I played that evening, several people who’d been outside to listen and who’d held coins for Pixie to collect held them up again, and she delighted in fluttering all over to get them. Her cup of ale was kept full, as was my mug. Of course, I outlasted Pixie by a long shot, and she allowed Coral to hold her when she got too tired, or maybe too tipsy, to flutter after coins any more. At the end of the evening, as Coral returned the sleeping fairy to me, we agreed to meet for breakfast. Pixie and I retired to bed, where she snuggled up to me and we slept soundly.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Sundancer's Fairy Tale - 7
There was still some time before sunset, so I decided to do some fiddle playing out in front of the tavern to get up some interest both for my sundance and my playing in the tavern after the dance. Pixie stayed hidden behind my hair at first, but couldn’t resist the music for long. She launched herself off my shoulder and danced in the air. When people began tossing coins into my fiddle case, she got interested in that and started looking around for possible contributors. One of the people who’d gathered to listen held up a coin and turned it so it flashed in the sun. Pixie fluttered over and plucked the coin from his hand. As she fluttered back to me, I paused in my playing for a ticca and pointed to the case. Smart fairy that she was, she flew to the case and dropped in the coin. Then she perched on the open top of the case and grinned at me.
“Very good, Pixie!” I said, just as pleased with her as she was with herself.
“Now we know her name,” someone said, “but what’s yours?”
“My name is Sundancer,” I replied, “and since the sun’s going to be setting soon, you’ll see why I took that name. After that, I’ll be heading to Brewer’s for some food, drink, and more playing. I hope you’ll join Pixie and me.”
I started playing again, and a lot of people held up coins, and Pixie was one busy fairy for a while. Some of the people tried to get her to land on outstretched hands, but she was pretty wary of them. She would swoop in to take a coin and then very quickly get away to deliver it.
As the sun got near the horizon, I had an idea. Instead of dancing without music, I would dance and play fiddle at the same time. I was used to doing it back at Brewer’s in Sunrise Harbor, but I’d always done it for the faster tunes. Here in Crater Bay, where I’d never performed before, it seemed a good time to try something new. So I stretched myself out toward the sun as usual, but this time I held my fiddle before me and waited for the lower edge of the sun to touch the horizon. Then I rose, brought the fiddle in for playing, and started my slower sunset dance while playing one of the many tunes Harper and Midnight had played for my dancing. And Pixie fluttered gracefully about me as I danced. She was really enjoying dancing in the open air and we seemed to fit together well. When the sun slipped below the horizon and I stopped playing, Pixie fluttered in and gave me a hug and kiss. Then she was busy fluttering about collecting coins and delivering them to my fiddle case.
I was very pleased to see a lot of the people who’d gathered for my performance head for the tavern with me. Several others called out they’d be coming back later. When I got inside, Brewer motioned me over to a table where there was already a meal waiting, along with a good-sized mug of ale. There was a plate of small delicacies, along with a very small cup of ale, and this was obviously for Pixie. She landed, sat down with her legs crossed, and tucked right in. After eating for a little while, she showed interest in the cup, so I picked up my mug and said, “Cheers!”
Pixie picked up her cup, fluttered up and touched it to my mug, piped out something that sounded more like “Cheese!” and we both drank. She seemed to like ale just as much as she’d liked the wine I’d given her earlier in the day. People at nearby tables were amused by her actions, and someone remarked that Pixie certainly knew good drink when it was offered. I agreed.
It was a lively evening at the tavern, although in spite of the music and opportunities to deliver coins, Pixie didn’t last all that long. She really knew what she liked, and that evening, ale was her choice. Before long she was snuggled up on my shoulder and was sound asleep. She woke up a couple of times when I stopped for a break, and made her need for a bathroom break known. Pixie was so small that what I could drink in one swallow was enough to get her completely plizzen-faced. (No, “plizzen” is not what you might be thinking. A plizzen is an animal that has what looks like to Dahroonans [and humans] a naturally goofy expression.
When we got into the little room in the tavern where we’d be spending the night, I wondered about sleeping arrangements. Pixie was awake, although not by much, so I decided I’d get into bed and see what she would do. She chose to slip under the covers at the back of my neck and lay her head near my ear. It probably wasn’t necessary, but I reminded Sileas not to let me roll back during the night.
In the morning, the kitchen staff made sure I had a good breakfast, and they also provided small bits for Pixie, with a tiny cup of wakener that she really liked. We went out to get a good look at the early morning harbor scene, then headed down the path to Wind Dancer. When we got close, Pixie flew on ahead. She seemed eager to check out her new home once again. For myself, I was glad to be under way again. This time we were headed for Candara City on the largest island in the group. There were a lot more islands closer together now, so I had to spend all my time that day at the wheel except when I anchored us for lunch in the lee of an island. In the late afternoon we arrived at Candara City’s harbor and I had a pleasant surprise.
I hadn’t expected to see a familiar face until I got to Sunrise Harbor, so I was very pleased to see Coral, who had been my legal representative during my hearing on the Orbital Tower, standing on the dock as we pulled in. She’d been very supportive and friendly during the hearing, and shared my delight that things had worked out so well for me. I knew she was from Candara City, but had just assumed she’d be busy on the Tower. But Dahroonans don’t live their lives at the frantic pace humans do. Humans get to make around 80 orbits about the sun in a lifetime. Dahroonans average 80 orbits around Tal, their sun, except one orbit, referred to as a cycle, takes two and a half Earth years, so a Dahroonan typically lives to 200 Earth years. They’ve got plenty of time for living, and they’ve been a civilized society much longer than Earth, so they’ve learned a thing or two about living well. Coral had plenty of time to head home and greet me and show me around town.
“Hello, Sunny!” Coral called.
“Coral! What a great surprise to see you!” I answered.
Pixie had turned shy and had retreated to the cabin before I’d spotted Coral and came alongside the dock. A dockhand caught my bow line and Coral took the stern line. I picked up my fiddle and small duffle and stepped onto the dock. Coral asked how the trip was going. She explained she was able to find out where I was, thanks to friends in the Tower, which was why she knew when I’d be sailing in. I’d been looking back to the boat and spotted Pixie peeking out as she had when we’d gotten to Crater Bay.
“I’ve got a little surprise,” I told Coral.
“What’s that?” she asked.
I turned to face Wind Dancer. “Pixie, come to Sunny!” I called.
Pixie flew right out to me, but still being shy, she headed right for my shoulder and hid behind my hair.
“A fairy!” Coral exclaimed. “You certainly were right about ‘a little surprise!’ How did you get her?”
I told Coral the story of rescuing Pixie and how she now wanted to stay with me. As I talked, Pixie’s curiosity gradually overcame her shyness and she poked her head out from behind my hair and next to my cheek, which she kissed.
“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Coral exclaimed as I gave my index fingertip a kiss and planted it on Pixie’s cheek. “She’s beautiful!”
I got Pixie to sit on my hand, and with the index finger of my free hand, I pointed to Coral.
“Pixie, this is Coral,” I said to Pixie slowly. “Coral, this is Pixie.”
“Hello, Pixie,” Coral said. Then she kissed the tip of her own index finger and slowly moved it to Pixie’s cheek. Pixie allowed the kiss to be transferred from fingertip to cheek, then she quickly leaned out to kiss Coral’s fingertip. Coral touched her own cheek with the kissed fingertip. Pixie giggled. Pixie giggles are infectious, and both Coral and I giggled too.
Coral was eager to hear me play. She’d gotten a sample when I was allowed to play a bit during my hearing, but she really wanted to see me in a more natural setting. She introduced me to Stout, who’d taken his name from the type of brew he specialized in. Stout was keeper of Harborside Tavern, one of the oldest in Candara City. Coral and I decided the next day would be better for seeing local sights, so I found a spot to play that would also serve as a good place for my sunset dance. It was pretty close to the Harborside as well, which meant I’d probably be able to entice some folks to follow me in.
“Very good, Pixie!” I said, just as pleased with her as she was with herself.
“Now we know her name,” someone said, “but what’s yours?”
“My name is Sundancer,” I replied, “and since the sun’s going to be setting soon, you’ll see why I took that name. After that, I’ll be heading to Brewer’s for some food, drink, and more playing. I hope you’ll join Pixie and me.”
I started playing again, and a lot of people held up coins, and Pixie was one busy fairy for a while. Some of the people tried to get her to land on outstretched hands, but she was pretty wary of them. She would swoop in to take a coin and then very quickly get away to deliver it.
As the sun got near the horizon, I had an idea. Instead of dancing without music, I would dance and play fiddle at the same time. I was used to doing it back at Brewer’s in Sunrise Harbor, but I’d always done it for the faster tunes. Here in Crater Bay, where I’d never performed before, it seemed a good time to try something new. So I stretched myself out toward the sun as usual, but this time I held my fiddle before me and waited for the lower edge of the sun to touch the horizon. Then I rose, brought the fiddle in for playing, and started my slower sunset dance while playing one of the many tunes Harper and Midnight had played for my dancing. And Pixie fluttered gracefully about me as I danced. She was really enjoying dancing in the open air and we seemed to fit together well. When the sun slipped below the horizon and I stopped playing, Pixie fluttered in and gave me a hug and kiss. Then she was busy fluttering about collecting coins and delivering them to my fiddle case.
I was very pleased to see a lot of the people who’d gathered for my performance head for the tavern with me. Several others called out they’d be coming back later. When I got inside, Brewer motioned me over to a table where there was already a meal waiting, along with a good-sized mug of ale. There was a plate of small delicacies, along with a very small cup of ale, and this was obviously for Pixie. She landed, sat down with her legs crossed, and tucked right in. After eating for a little while, she showed interest in the cup, so I picked up my mug and said, “Cheers!”
Pixie picked up her cup, fluttered up and touched it to my mug, piped out something that sounded more like “Cheese!” and we both drank. She seemed to like ale just as much as she’d liked the wine I’d given her earlier in the day. People at nearby tables were amused by her actions, and someone remarked that Pixie certainly knew good drink when it was offered. I agreed.
It was a lively evening at the tavern, although in spite of the music and opportunities to deliver coins, Pixie didn’t last all that long. She really knew what she liked, and that evening, ale was her choice. Before long she was snuggled up on my shoulder and was sound asleep. She woke up a couple of times when I stopped for a break, and made her need for a bathroom break known. Pixie was so small that what I could drink in one swallow was enough to get her completely plizzen-faced. (No, “plizzen” is not what you might be thinking. A plizzen is an animal that has what looks like to Dahroonans [and humans] a naturally goofy expression.
When we got into the little room in the tavern where we’d be spending the night, I wondered about sleeping arrangements. Pixie was awake, although not by much, so I decided I’d get into bed and see what she would do. She chose to slip under the covers at the back of my neck and lay her head near my ear. It probably wasn’t necessary, but I reminded Sileas not to let me roll back during the night.
In the morning, the kitchen staff made sure I had a good breakfast, and they also provided small bits for Pixie, with a tiny cup of wakener that she really liked. We went out to get a good look at the early morning harbor scene, then headed down the path to Wind Dancer. When we got close, Pixie flew on ahead. She seemed eager to check out her new home once again. For myself, I was glad to be under way again. This time we were headed for Candara City on the largest island in the group. There were a lot more islands closer together now, so I had to spend all my time that day at the wheel except when I anchored us for lunch in the lee of an island. In the late afternoon we arrived at Candara City’s harbor and I had a pleasant surprise.
I hadn’t expected to see a familiar face until I got to Sunrise Harbor, so I was very pleased to see Coral, who had been my legal representative during my hearing on the Orbital Tower, standing on the dock as we pulled in. She’d been very supportive and friendly during the hearing, and shared my delight that things had worked out so well for me. I knew she was from Candara City, but had just assumed she’d be busy on the Tower. But Dahroonans don’t live their lives at the frantic pace humans do. Humans get to make around 80 orbits about the sun in a lifetime. Dahroonans average 80 orbits around Tal, their sun, except one orbit, referred to as a cycle, takes two and a half Earth years, so a Dahroonan typically lives to 200 Earth years. They’ve got plenty of time for living, and they’ve been a civilized society much longer than Earth, so they’ve learned a thing or two about living well. Coral had plenty of time to head home and greet me and show me around town.
“Hello, Sunny!” Coral called.
“Coral! What a great surprise to see you!” I answered.
Pixie had turned shy and had retreated to the cabin before I’d spotted Coral and came alongside the dock. A dockhand caught my bow line and Coral took the stern line. I picked up my fiddle and small duffle and stepped onto the dock. Coral asked how the trip was going. She explained she was able to find out where I was, thanks to friends in the Tower, which was why she knew when I’d be sailing in. I’d been looking back to the boat and spotted Pixie peeking out as she had when we’d gotten to Crater Bay.
“I’ve got a little surprise,” I told Coral.
“What’s that?” she asked.
I turned to face Wind Dancer. “Pixie, come to Sunny!” I called.
Pixie flew right out to me, but still being shy, she headed right for my shoulder and hid behind my hair.
“A fairy!” Coral exclaimed. “You certainly were right about ‘a little surprise!’ How did you get her?”
I told Coral the story of rescuing Pixie and how she now wanted to stay with me. As I talked, Pixie’s curiosity gradually overcame her shyness and she poked her head out from behind my hair and next to my cheek, which she kissed.
“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Coral exclaimed as I gave my index fingertip a kiss and planted it on Pixie’s cheek. “She’s beautiful!”
I got Pixie to sit on my hand, and with the index finger of my free hand, I pointed to Coral.
“Pixie, this is Coral,” I said to Pixie slowly. “Coral, this is Pixie.”
“Hello, Pixie,” Coral said. Then she kissed the tip of her own index finger and slowly moved it to Pixie’s cheek. Pixie allowed the kiss to be transferred from fingertip to cheek, then she quickly leaned out to kiss Coral’s fingertip. Coral touched her own cheek with the kissed fingertip. Pixie giggled. Pixie giggles are infectious, and both Coral and I giggled too.
Coral was eager to hear me play. She’d gotten a sample when I was allowed to play a bit during my hearing, but she really wanted to see me in a more natural setting. She introduced me to Stout, who’d taken his name from the type of brew he specialized in. Stout was keeper of Harborside Tavern, one of the oldest in Candara City. Coral and I decided the next day would be better for seeing local sights, so I found a spot to play that would also serve as a good place for my sunset dance. It was pretty close to the Harborside as well, which meant I’d probably be able to entice some folks to follow me in.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Sundancer's Fairy Tale - 6
The next sound I heard from her wasn’t a giggle. It was a gurgle, and it was clear to me that it came from a very tiny and very empty stomach. It suddenly dawned on me that since we’d met, the only thing Pixie had consumed was the little blossom cup of nectar, and she hadn’t drunk the whole thing. Suddenly I was wondering what to feed a fairy. I just hoped at least some of the food on board would be right for her. I headed back to Dancer’s main cabin and its galley area. Pixie followed. She kept looking back, maybe thinking the reflection would join her.
I figured I couldn’t go too wrong with bread, so I got that out, along with some jam. I cut a thin slice of bread, then divided it. I was going to put a little jam on one of the pieces, but Pixie swooped in and grabbed one, perched on a shelf, and started eating right away. It was obvious the poor little thing was famished. She made short work of that first piece, while I put some of the jam on another one. When I held that up to her, she sniffed at the jam and decided she liked it. The second piece went down just about as quickly as the first. I got out a few pieces of fruit and cut them up, making sure some of the pieces were small enough for her, while I ate the bigger pieces. She tried each one, and appeared to like them. I took a cap off a bottle and poured some wine into it, then poured a glass for myself. She gave it a cautious sniff. I took a sip from my glass, and she followed suit. It definitely met with her approval, and she took a longer drink of it. She ate another piece of fruit, then had more wine, after which she fluttered over to me, maybe just a wee bit unsteadily, perched on my shoulder, put her arms around my neck, and gave me a kiss, then rubbed her cheek against mine. Then she burped. We both giggled at that.
Mealtime for Pixie was followed by naptime. She snuggled against my neck and pulled some of my hair over her. It seemed I had her complete trust. How long would she sleep? Was she nocturnal and would she be awake all night? I’d find out sooner or later, I supposed. I wanted to get out my fiddle and play, but didn’t want to disturb Pixie, so I went back to the wheel and sailed. Pixie had a firm grip on my hair, so I wasn’t worried about her blowing away, and besides, Sileas was, as always, keeping an eye on things.
When Pixie showed signs of waking up, there was still some time that I could spend below, so I set the steering and went back to the main cabin. She soon fluttered off her perch on my shoulder and got in front of me. She pointed between her legs and made a sort of urgent whine. I held out my hand for a perch and took her to the head, lifted the seat, and got her to stand on the edge. She squatted a bit unsteadily, so I offered her a finger to grab, and she did what she needed to do. She spotted a box of tissues, grabbed one, and used it appropriately. I was relieved to know I wasn’t going to have to clean up after her like I would’ve had to clean up after a pet bird. Pixie - my friend, not a pet - was far more intelligent. Then I had an idea, and Sileas took that idea so that a small removeable seat appeared over the dahry-sized one. Pixie would be able to do her business in private, and I was sure she was smart enough to figure that out.
That taken care of, it seemed a good time to acquaint Pixie with fiddle music. She was fascinated as I opened the fiddle case in the main cabin. I let her flutter over the fiddle in its case and get a good look. She plucked each of the strings, then looked at me and giggled. The rosin and the bow puzzled her, so I got them out, tightened the bow and applied the rosin, then took up the fiddle. She was utterly fascinated as I tuned the instrument, and got close, so close that I had to motion her away a little. She landed on the table and sat down, thereby becoming literally the smallest audience I’d ever played for.
Pixie may have been only six inches tall, but I soon realized she was going to be my biggest fan. She was enthralled, fascinated, delighted, you name it. Pretty soon she was dancing to my music, and not just on the table. She spread her wings and danced on air all over the cabin. I played a whole bunch of tunes, fascinated myself by her reactions to them. When I finally stopped, she quickly fluttered to the forward cabin and came back with an earring. It was from my shiniest pair. Rather than take it back, I put it on. She fluttered off and returned with its mate, which I also put on. Maybe she’d never understand they belonged to me in the first place, but how could I refuse her?
The time came for me to head back to the wheel to bring Wind Dancer into our next port of call, Crater Bay. The bay was the result of a meteor impact at the edge of an island. There was one point where the crater walls were below sea level, leaving an entrance that had required only a little engineering to make the little bay an almost perfect harbor. It was beautiful, and I was glad it was on my way from Marathoona to Candara City. Most of the town was spread out along the top of the crater walls, with the docks below and switchback paths and a road connecting docks and town.
I brought Dancer into a slip as directed by a dockhand. He and I chatted briefly. He asked where I’d come from and where I was headed, and I asked him where I might find a tavern to play in. Pixie, meanwhile, had stayed in the cabin, although I could see her peeking out from an upper corner of the cabin door. I had no idea if she’d ever been around Dahroonans, and wondered if she’d decide to stay aboard or join me. I got my answer as soon as the dockhand moved away. She knew I had my fiddle with me, and perhaps she didn’t want to miss out on more music, or maybe she might have decided she’d be safer with me. Whatever the reason, she quickly fluttered from her hiding place, took up her usual perch on my shoulder holding onto my neck, and pulled some hair around her to hide in. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I kissed my index fingertip and touched her cheek with it. Then I set off up one of the pathways to find the Overlook Tavern the dockhand had mentioned.
The view of Crater Bay from the top of the path was marvelous. I paused for a while to take it in - the almost perfectly circular bay with its deep blue water dotted with vessels of many varieties, including my own sweet Wind Dancer, the sea beyond the bay, and the clouds sprinkled about the sky. I was at the northern part of the bay, so there would be a good view to the west for the sunset, which wasn’t far off. I turned and went into the tavern to see if I might play there that evening and also ask if it would be all right if I did my sundance.
In a society like Dahroona’s, where people take names related to their occupations or other things that relate to their lives as adults, it’s not uncommon for people who travel about to encounter people with names that duplicate ones they have known in their home areas. So I wasn’t surprised when the Overlook Tavern owner introduced himself as Brewer. I knew from the research Sileas and I had done when I first came to Dahroona that if several people from different areas but with the same name got together, they would identify themselves as, for example, Brewer of Crater Bay or Brewer of Sunrise Harbor. Had those two dahrs ever met, they might’ve addressed each other as “Crater” and “Sunrise.”
Fortunately, Brewer of Crater Bay was happy to give me the opportunity to play for his customers, and he thought my sunset dance would prove to be an interesting and intriguing event.
“By the way, Sundancer, are you headed over to the Musician’s Gathering on South Island?” he asked. “I hear it’s going to be a pretty big event this cycle. Music’s always been a big part of life here in the Isles, and we’re pleased it’s being held here this time.”
With Sileas’ help, I recalled that musicians held large Gatherings once a cycle in several areas on Dahroona. Since she was able to keep tapped into the Dahroonan equivalent of Earth’s Internet, she was able to instantly fill me in on the South Island Gathering. Her update was so quick there was no noticeable pause before I replied to Brewer.
“Oh, yes, I’ll be going for certain,” I replied. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Even though Sileas had just then made me aware of the event, our communication was so complete that my answer was sincere. How could I, a fiddler and dancer, pass up such an event? Well, there was my eagerness to get back to Sunrise Harbor and Harper and Midnight, but Sileas assured me we could probably tighten up the course we’d planned and search a little more diligently for favorable winds and still be back in Sunrise Harbor in good time.
Pixie had been hiding behind my hair while perched on my shoulder, doing a pretty good job of staying inconspicuous at first. But curiosity got the better of her as she realized I was dealing with a friendly person, and she poked her head out.
“What’s that you’ve got on your shoulder, Sundancer?” Brewer asked. “Is it a fairy? Don’t see many of them around. They’re usually pretty wary of us.”
“She’s a fairy, all right,” I replied. “Her name’s Pixie. I found her on an island this morning trapped in a spinner’s web. I got her out of that, and it looks like she’s adopted me.”
“Better be careful,” Brewer said, “Fairies are notorious for taking bright, shiny things. This one’s got black hair, and if she’s anything like blackpelts, you could have a problem on your hands.”
“Oh, I’ll keep a close watch on her,” I said, “but she seems to want to stick pretty close to me. If she grabs anything that she shouldn’t, I’ll make sure it gets returned promptly. I think she’s bright enough to learn, but I don’t think she’s been around people before.”
I was a little preturbed at Brewer’s attitude toward blackpelts. I had to remind myself that his attitude couldn’t be expected to match that of the Brewer I knew on the other side of the planet. Brewer of Sunrise Harbor believed that given the opportunity, a blackpelt could be as decent as anyone, and his attitude, shared by many in the town, had gone a long way toward making Midnight, my blackpelt friend, the good person she’d always wanted to be. But I also had to take this Brewer’s warning seriously and keep a close watch on Pixie. News has a way of traveling fast in the Candara Isles, and it wouldn’t do for Pixie and me to get a reputation for stealing stuff.
I figured I couldn’t go too wrong with bread, so I got that out, along with some jam. I cut a thin slice of bread, then divided it. I was going to put a little jam on one of the pieces, but Pixie swooped in and grabbed one, perched on a shelf, and started eating right away. It was obvious the poor little thing was famished. She made short work of that first piece, while I put some of the jam on another one. When I held that up to her, she sniffed at the jam and decided she liked it. The second piece went down just about as quickly as the first. I got out a few pieces of fruit and cut them up, making sure some of the pieces were small enough for her, while I ate the bigger pieces. She tried each one, and appeared to like them. I took a cap off a bottle and poured some wine into it, then poured a glass for myself. She gave it a cautious sniff. I took a sip from my glass, and she followed suit. It definitely met with her approval, and she took a longer drink of it. She ate another piece of fruit, then had more wine, after which she fluttered over to me, maybe just a wee bit unsteadily, perched on my shoulder, put her arms around my neck, and gave me a kiss, then rubbed her cheek against mine. Then she burped. We both giggled at that.
Mealtime for Pixie was followed by naptime. She snuggled against my neck and pulled some of my hair over her. It seemed I had her complete trust. How long would she sleep? Was she nocturnal and would she be awake all night? I’d find out sooner or later, I supposed. I wanted to get out my fiddle and play, but didn’t want to disturb Pixie, so I went back to the wheel and sailed. Pixie had a firm grip on my hair, so I wasn’t worried about her blowing away, and besides, Sileas was, as always, keeping an eye on things.
When Pixie showed signs of waking up, there was still some time that I could spend below, so I set the steering and went back to the main cabin. She soon fluttered off her perch on my shoulder and got in front of me. She pointed between her legs and made a sort of urgent whine. I held out my hand for a perch and took her to the head, lifted the seat, and got her to stand on the edge. She squatted a bit unsteadily, so I offered her a finger to grab, and she did what she needed to do. She spotted a box of tissues, grabbed one, and used it appropriately. I was relieved to know I wasn’t going to have to clean up after her like I would’ve had to clean up after a pet bird. Pixie - my friend, not a pet - was far more intelligent. Then I had an idea, and Sileas took that idea so that a small removeable seat appeared over the dahry-sized one. Pixie would be able to do her business in private, and I was sure she was smart enough to figure that out.
That taken care of, it seemed a good time to acquaint Pixie with fiddle music. She was fascinated as I opened the fiddle case in the main cabin. I let her flutter over the fiddle in its case and get a good look. She plucked each of the strings, then looked at me and giggled. The rosin and the bow puzzled her, so I got them out, tightened the bow and applied the rosin, then took up the fiddle. She was utterly fascinated as I tuned the instrument, and got close, so close that I had to motion her away a little. She landed on the table and sat down, thereby becoming literally the smallest audience I’d ever played for.
Pixie may have been only six inches tall, but I soon realized she was going to be my biggest fan. She was enthralled, fascinated, delighted, you name it. Pretty soon she was dancing to my music, and not just on the table. She spread her wings and danced on air all over the cabin. I played a whole bunch of tunes, fascinated myself by her reactions to them. When I finally stopped, she quickly fluttered to the forward cabin and came back with an earring. It was from my shiniest pair. Rather than take it back, I put it on. She fluttered off and returned with its mate, which I also put on. Maybe she’d never understand they belonged to me in the first place, but how could I refuse her?
The time came for me to head back to the wheel to bring Wind Dancer into our next port of call, Crater Bay. The bay was the result of a meteor impact at the edge of an island. There was one point where the crater walls were below sea level, leaving an entrance that had required only a little engineering to make the little bay an almost perfect harbor. It was beautiful, and I was glad it was on my way from Marathoona to Candara City. Most of the town was spread out along the top of the crater walls, with the docks below and switchback paths and a road connecting docks and town.
I brought Dancer into a slip as directed by a dockhand. He and I chatted briefly. He asked where I’d come from and where I was headed, and I asked him where I might find a tavern to play in. Pixie, meanwhile, had stayed in the cabin, although I could see her peeking out from an upper corner of the cabin door. I had no idea if she’d ever been around Dahroonans, and wondered if she’d decide to stay aboard or join me. I got my answer as soon as the dockhand moved away. She knew I had my fiddle with me, and perhaps she didn’t want to miss out on more music, or maybe she might have decided she’d be safer with me. Whatever the reason, she quickly fluttered from her hiding place, took up her usual perch on my shoulder holding onto my neck, and pulled some hair around her to hide in. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I kissed my index fingertip and touched her cheek with it. Then I set off up one of the pathways to find the Overlook Tavern the dockhand had mentioned.
The view of Crater Bay from the top of the path was marvelous. I paused for a while to take it in - the almost perfectly circular bay with its deep blue water dotted with vessels of many varieties, including my own sweet Wind Dancer, the sea beyond the bay, and the clouds sprinkled about the sky. I was at the northern part of the bay, so there would be a good view to the west for the sunset, which wasn’t far off. I turned and went into the tavern to see if I might play there that evening and also ask if it would be all right if I did my sundance.
In a society like Dahroona’s, where people take names related to their occupations or other things that relate to their lives as adults, it’s not uncommon for people who travel about to encounter people with names that duplicate ones they have known in their home areas. So I wasn’t surprised when the Overlook Tavern owner introduced himself as Brewer. I knew from the research Sileas and I had done when I first came to Dahroona that if several people from different areas but with the same name got together, they would identify themselves as, for example, Brewer of Crater Bay or Brewer of Sunrise Harbor. Had those two dahrs ever met, they might’ve addressed each other as “Crater” and “Sunrise.”
Fortunately, Brewer of Crater Bay was happy to give me the opportunity to play for his customers, and he thought my sunset dance would prove to be an interesting and intriguing event.
“By the way, Sundancer, are you headed over to the Musician’s Gathering on South Island?” he asked. “I hear it’s going to be a pretty big event this cycle. Music’s always been a big part of life here in the Isles, and we’re pleased it’s being held here this time.”
With Sileas’ help, I recalled that musicians held large Gatherings once a cycle in several areas on Dahroona. Since she was able to keep tapped into the Dahroonan equivalent of Earth’s Internet, she was able to instantly fill me in on the South Island Gathering. Her update was so quick there was no noticeable pause before I replied to Brewer.
“Oh, yes, I’ll be going for certain,” I replied. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Even though Sileas had just then made me aware of the event, our communication was so complete that my answer was sincere. How could I, a fiddler and dancer, pass up such an event? Well, there was my eagerness to get back to Sunrise Harbor and Harper and Midnight, but Sileas assured me we could probably tighten up the course we’d planned and search a little more diligently for favorable winds and still be back in Sunrise Harbor in good time.
Pixie had been hiding behind my hair while perched on my shoulder, doing a pretty good job of staying inconspicuous at first. But curiosity got the better of her as she realized I was dealing with a friendly person, and she poked her head out.
“What’s that you’ve got on your shoulder, Sundancer?” Brewer asked. “Is it a fairy? Don’t see many of them around. They’re usually pretty wary of us.”
“She’s a fairy, all right,” I replied. “Her name’s Pixie. I found her on an island this morning trapped in a spinner’s web. I got her out of that, and it looks like she’s adopted me.”
“Better be careful,” Brewer said, “Fairies are notorious for taking bright, shiny things. This one’s got black hair, and if she’s anything like blackpelts, you could have a problem on your hands.”
“Oh, I’ll keep a close watch on her,” I said, “but she seems to want to stick pretty close to me. If she grabs anything that she shouldn’t, I’ll make sure it gets returned promptly. I think she’s bright enough to learn, but I don’t think she’s been around people before.”
I was a little preturbed at Brewer’s attitude toward blackpelts. I had to remind myself that his attitude couldn’t be expected to match that of the Brewer I knew on the other side of the planet. Brewer of Sunrise Harbor believed that given the opportunity, a blackpelt could be as decent as anyone, and his attitude, shared by many in the town, had gone a long way toward making Midnight, my blackpelt friend, the good person she’d always wanted to be. But I also had to take this Brewer’s warning seriously and keep a close watch on Pixie. News has a way of traveling fast in the Candara Isles, and it wouldn’t do for Pixie and me to get a reputation for stealing stuff.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
The ThinkPad Lives!
Just for fun and because I've heard Linux can work on older machines, I tried installing Linux Mint 7 on my ancient ThinkPad 1400 from 1999. It has a noisy fan, but it does run, although I need to use AC for power. Mint didn't work. After chugging away for a long time, it finally told me the kernel needs "cmov" and my CPU doesn't have it. I don't really know what it is. All I know is it's needed and the ThinkPad doesn't have it.
I looked that up online and found I'd have to look for a small distro that works on older machines. After some research, I tried SimplyMEPIS 8, but that needed the cmov thing too. After more research, I downloaded Puppy version 4.3.1, the latest one. This looked more promising. It didn't take nearly as long to go through the black screen and it allowed me to make some choices for language, country, time zone, etc. Eventually it got to a graphical desktop, which looked quite nice except for one thing. The mouse pointer wouldn't move.
I dug out a trackball and plugged it in, then tried again. Same results. I was using a PS/2 adaptor on the trackball, so I took that off and connected to a serial port. Unfortunately, that didn't work either. Back to the intertoobs, where I saw a post on a Linux forum where someone had chosen "test" for video. There was a "change mouse" option and I chose a serial mouse. This time, on the very primitive screen that came up, the mouse pointer moved, so I went on. Got to the desktop once again, and the mouse pointer wouldn't move.
More research. This time I read about someone saying things changed between versions 4.2 and 4.3 regarding mouse choices. So I downloaded version 4.2, burned it, and stuck it in the CD drive on the ThinkPad. This time I went through everything and when I got to the graphical desktop, the mouse pointer moved. Success at last.
I ended up burning three CDs from downloaded ISO files and Mint's CD burning software, Brasero, made it so easy. The download window allowed me to chose to save the file in the burner software, and then I was informed that because the file was an ISO file, it could be burned right to disk without a lot of fiddling around. It was so simple. I was initially skeptical because I've made wrong choices with ISO image files in Windows and ended up just burning the file to disk instead of creating a bootable CD, but that didn't happen this time. They burned and they booted.
Usually I don't need a laptop, having two desktops that run fine, but now and then I might be able to use it. It would be handy to look at pictures I take at Faerieworlds next summer. All I'd need is someplace to plug in the ThinkPad and I'd not only see the pictures much larger than they show on the camera viewscreen, but I could share the viewing with friends there. I'll have to take a few pictures of something and see how feasible that idea is.
I looked that up online and found I'd have to look for a small distro that works on older machines. After some research, I tried SimplyMEPIS 8, but that needed the cmov thing too. After more research, I downloaded Puppy version 4.3.1, the latest one. This looked more promising. It didn't take nearly as long to go through the black screen and it allowed me to make some choices for language, country, time zone, etc. Eventually it got to a graphical desktop, which looked quite nice except for one thing. The mouse pointer wouldn't move.
I dug out a trackball and plugged it in, then tried again. Same results. I was using a PS/2 adaptor on the trackball, so I took that off and connected to a serial port. Unfortunately, that didn't work either. Back to the intertoobs, where I saw a post on a Linux forum where someone had chosen "test" for video. There was a "change mouse" option and I chose a serial mouse. This time, on the very primitive screen that came up, the mouse pointer moved, so I went on. Got to the desktop once again, and the mouse pointer wouldn't move.
More research. This time I read about someone saying things changed between versions 4.2 and 4.3 regarding mouse choices. So I downloaded version 4.2, burned it, and stuck it in the CD drive on the ThinkPad. This time I went through everything and when I got to the graphical desktop, the mouse pointer moved. Success at last.
I ended up burning three CDs from downloaded ISO files and Mint's CD burning software, Brasero, made it so easy. The download window allowed me to chose to save the file in the burner software, and then I was informed that because the file was an ISO file, it could be burned right to disk without a lot of fiddling around. It was so simple. I was initially skeptical because I've made wrong choices with ISO image files in Windows and ended up just burning the file to disk instead of creating a bootable CD, but that didn't happen this time. They burned and they booted.
Usually I don't need a laptop, having two desktops that run fine, but now and then I might be able to use it. It would be handy to look at pictures I take at Faerieworlds next summer. All I'd need is someplace to plug in the ThinkPad and I'd not only see the pictures much larger than they show on the camera viewscreen, but I could share the viewing with friends there. I'll have to take a few pictures of something and see how feasible that idea is.
Moving a Computer
About a week and a half ago I rearranged my bedroom, and it created more space at the foot of the bed, which is now in one corner of the room. I have a rolling computer desk about four feet wide and a 19" CRT monitor. I hadn't been using either and the desk was cluttered up with all sorts of junk.
I went to Frys on Monday hoping to pick up some super cheap stuff to resurrect one of the older desktop boxes, but didn't see stuff as cheap as I'd hoped and decided against getting components. Instead I got to thinking about moving Caristiona, my older machine, into the bedroom. So I got a new trackball for Sileas, a card reader that can read SD cards and Compact Flash along with other types, and a network cable coupler. I knew I had two fifty-foot cables around and while it would have been better if one were a 25-footer, I didn't want to buy another cable.
This morning I began cleaning junk out of the rolling desk, then I got it moved into the bedroom. Next I had to figure out which wires went to which set of speakers and get the speakers separated from the tangle of wires that's proliferated over time. I also took out the KVM switch because I'll only have one computer in the main area which is usually used as a dining area. I also needed to find different outlets for some stuff because I wanted to take one of the uninterupptable power supplies to plug Caristiona and components in. In the course of all that I spotted several wires for stuff I'd once had but wasn't using any more. There were things like USB cables, wires to power transformers that weren't being used. In short, a mess, but now it's a little simpler.
Eventually I got all the necessary stuff into the bedroom and hooked up except for the network cable. The computer worked, although I had to reset the date and time. Then I ran the cable, which included taping it down where it crossed the bedroom entrance and the entrance to the bathroom. The network setup didn't work right away. I had to unplug the router and plug it back in, but once I did that, Caristiona connected to the intertoobs.
My next project is to try and get a version of Linux on my old IBM ThinkPad 1400 from 1998. It still runs although the fan is noisy and it needs to be plugged in to AC to run. But it does run, so perhaps I can find uses for it if I can get stuff set up with Linux. I've learned I need to find a distro which doesn't use something called "cmov" which is not on the ThinkPad's CPU. I'm thinking I might be able to use it to look at photos at Faerieworlds next year.
I went to Frys on Monday hoping to pick up some super cheap stuff to resurrect one of the older desktop boxes, but didn't see stuff as cheap as I'd hoped and decided against getting components. Instead I got to thinking about moving Caristiona, my older machine, into the bedroom. So I got a new trackball for Sileas, a card reader that can read SD cards and Compact Flash along with other types, and a network cable coupler. I knew I had two fifty-foot cables around and while it would have been better if one were a 25-footer, I didn't want to buy another cable.
This morning I began cleaning junk out of the rolling desk, then I got it moved into the bedroom. Next I had to figure out which wires went to which set of speakers and get the speakers separated from the tangle of wires that's proliferated over time. I also took out the KVM switch because I'll only have one computer in the main area which is usually used as a dining area. I also needed to find different outlets for some stuff because I wanted to take one of the uninterupptable power supplies to plug Caristiona and components in. In the course of all that I spotted several wires for stuff I'd once had but wasn't using any more. There were things like USB cables, wires to power transformers that weren't being used. In short, a mess, but now it's a little simpler.
Eventually I got all the necessary stuff into the bedroom and hooked up except for the network cable. The computer worked, although I had to reset the date and time. Then I ran the cable, which included taping it down where it crossed the bedroom entrance and the entrance to the bathroom. The network setup didn't work right away. I had to unplug the router and plug it back in, but once I did that, Caristiona connected to the intertoobs.
My next project is to try and get a version of Linux on my old IBM ThinkPad 1400 from 1998. It still runs although the fan is noisy and it needs to be plugged in to AC to run. But it does run, so perhaps I can find uses for it if I can get stuff set up with Linux. I've learned I need to find a distro which doesn't use something called "cmov" which is not on the ThinkPad's CPU. I'm thinking I might be able to use it to look at photos at Faerieworlds next year.
Sundancer's Fairy Tale - 5
She moved a little, and her head came out from under my hair. Her hand stroked my cheek a few times, then she kissed me. She had her arms as far around my neck as she could get them, and she laid her cheek against mine. I reached in very slowly and carefully and picked her up. Again I held her in my hand. She just sat there, then she took hold of my thumb and kissed it.
“Mama,” she said.
“Umm, I don’t think so,” I replied. “It’s time for you to go now.”
But she kept holding on to my thumb. I used my other hand to get her to stand, then I tossed her into the air. Her wings sprang out and she fluttered around me and said “Mama” a few more times. I started to move back toward the beach, but she cut me off and fluttered in front of me, holding out her hands in a clear gesture that told me to stay right there. I stopped. She looked around, then quickly flew over to a group of flowers. These flowers had blossoms that formed little cups. She plucked a couple of them and returned to me with one in each hand. Hovering, she handed me one of the yellow blossoms. There was liquid inside the cups. She held out her blossom toward the one I was holding. I touched mine to hers.
“Cheers,” I said, and lifted the blossom to drink the liquid. She did the same, though “Cheers” wasn’t in her vocabulary. We drank. It was a very sweet and pleasant nectar. She dropped her blossom and fluttered back to her perch by my neck and kissed my cheek again.
“Mama,” she said once more.
Now, I don’t think she ever thought I was her mother. But clearly she thought I was pretty special to her, me having just saved her life, and now we’d drunk nectar together. It appeared I’d been adopted, or I’d unwittingly adopted her. I wasn’t sure what to think of that, and if she wanted to stay with me, I wasn’t sure I had the right to take her from her home. Certainly somewhere she had a fairy family, parents, maybe brothers and sisters who would miss her. Or maybe not. After all, no other fairies had responded to her screams. Maybe she’d been blown to the island from somewhere else and was all alone, or maybe something had happened to the others. I had no way of knowing at first, although a little later, after I’d returned to the beach, I heard from Sileas,who told me she hadn’t seen any other fairies on the island. She’s pretty thorough, and if she said there weren’t any, there weren’t. Sileas certainly had no idea how the little fairy happened to be there all by herself.
So with my fairy friend perched on my shoulder hugging my neck, I carefully got the dinghy off the sand, climbed in, and rowed back to Wind Dancer. I was half expecting the fairy to kiss me goodbye and fly back to the island, but she stayed right where she was as I got aboard Dancer, stowed the dinghy, raised the anchor, and got under way. As we got into open water, I coaxed her out from behind my hair onto my hand, which I held up with her facing the island. But she was having none of it. She kept her wings firmly folded along her back and grabbed my thumb, which she kissed again. A breeze struck her, and she clung even tighter. This fairy wasn’t going anywhere without me.
“Mama,” she said again and kissed my thumb.
I sighed and brought my hand down and turned it so she faced me. She smiled. I pointed at myself with my other hand.
“Sunny,” I said slowly and distinctly. I repeated the gesture and said my nickname several times. I wasn’t sure if she could handle the three syllables of my full name. I wasn’t even sure if she’d get the point.
But she did. “Sun-nee,” she said very slowly as she pointed at me. So I repeated my name normally a few times, and soon she was saying it normally as well. Then she jumped from my hand to my shoulder, hugged my neck, kissed my cheek and put her cheek next to mine.
“Sunny!”
I took her in my hand again and pointed at her with my other index finger. I gave her a questioning look, not at all sure if she’d understand. When it seemed she didn’t, I pointed at myself, said “Sunny,” and pointed back at her. She just shook her head, grabbed my thumb, looked at me and said “Sunny” again. Then she kissed my thumb and smiled at me.
“No name, huh?” I said to her. “Well, I’m definitely not going to call you Tinkerbell!”
I thought for a bit, then, as she kissed my thumb and said “Sunny” once more, I thought of how Earth artist Brian Froud had written, “The pixies say there can never be too much kissing!” So I kissed the tip of my free index finger and gently touched her cheek with it.
“Pixie,” I said distinctly.
She caught right on to that. She let go of my thumb and sat up in my hand, pointed at herself and said her new name. She pointed at me and said mine. Smart fairy. She seemed pretty proud of herself and she sat on my hand smiling at me.
Then a small gust rocked her and she grabbed my thumb and looked around at all the water we were sailing through. I brought my hand up close to my shoulder, and Pixie moved back to it and hugged my neck, using my hair to hide behind. I knew what she feared: being blown overboard. I had no idea how fast or how far she could fly, so I shared her concern, although Sileas quickly told me not to worry - she would make sure nothing happened to our new friend. But of course Pixie couldn’t know that. All she knew was a sudden gust could put her over the side flapping desperately to catch up with Wind Dancer. And for all she knew, some bird or fish could spot her and decide it was time for lunch. Sileas told me we had some clear sailing for a while before I’d have to start maneuvering Dancer to our first island town. I set the auto-steering and took Pixie below into the cabin.
I sat down at the little table. Pixie poked her head out and looked around, then, deciding it was safe, launched herself on an exploratory flight. She was curious about everything, it seemed, and if things hadn’t been secured, she’d probably have opened every drawer or door she could. She certainly tried. Then she fluttered to the forward cabin and the bunks. I followed, glad that the forward hatch wasn’t open for her to fly out of. She almost flew right into my face coming back out. She had one of my earrings that I occasionally wore. She avoided a collision and held the earring out to me.
“Sunny!”
“Thank you, Pixie,” I said, accepting her gift, “but it’s already mine. Everything, including Wind Dancer, is mine.” I didn’t expect her to understand property, but I hoped she’d understand my thanks.
I held out my hand and she landed on it. I carried her back to the forward cabin, where I returned the earring to its proper place, then held her close and kissed her cheek. Pixie liked that, and she leaned in and kissed my cheek. Then she spotted the mirror, which happened to be oriented so she saw our reflections in it. She was fascinated. I held her closer to the mirror. She reached out and touched her reflection. She seemed quite surprised to realize it wasn’t another fairy that could take her hand. I let her step onto the little shelf at the bottom of the mirror, and she stood there feeling the mirror’s whole surface as high as she could reach, then she fluttered up to feel the rest of it. She landed on the shelf, then moved off to one side, then she poked her head back in front of the mirror. It delighted her to see her reflection looking back at her, just as amazed as she was.
I moved so she could see my reflection in the mirror as well as her own. I moved in close. She watched me do that by watching my reflection, then she turned to mostly face me while keeping an eye on the mirror. I brought my face close to her. She leaned out to kiss my cheek while at the same time watching the mirror. As she kissed, she could see the Pixie reflection kissing the Sunny reflection. She giggled. It was a high, tinkly, and delighted sound. I had to giggle back.
“Mama,” she said.
“Umm, I don’t think so,” I replied. “It’s time for you to go now.”
But she kept holding on to my thumb. I used my other hand to get her to stand, then I tossed her into the air. Her wings sprang out and she fluttered around me and said “Mama” a few more times. I started to move back toward the beach, but she cut me off and fluttered in front of me, holding out her hands in a clear gesture that told me to stay right there. I stopped. She looked around, then quickly flew over to a group of flowers. These flowers had blossoms that formed little cups. She plucked a couple of them and returned to me with one in each hand. Hovering, she handed me one of the yellow blossoms. There was liquid inside the cups. She held out her blossom toward the one I was holding. I touched mine to hers.
“Cheers,” I said, and lifted the blossom to drink the liquid. She did the same, though “Cheers” wasn’t in her vocabulary. We drank. It was a very sweet and pleasant nectar. She dropped her blossom and fluttered back to her perch by my neck and kissed my cheek again.
“Mama,” she said once more.
Now, I don’t think she ever thought I was her mother. But clearly she thought I was pretty special to her, me having just saved her life, and now we’d drunk nectar together. It appeared I’d been adopted, or I’d unwittingly adopted her. I wasn’t sure what to think of that, and if she wanted to stay with me, I wasn’t sure I had the right to take her from her home. Certainly somewhere she had a fairy family, parents, maybe brothers and sisters who would miss her. Or maybe not. After all, no other fairies had responded to her screams. Maybe she’d been blown to the island from somewhere else and was all alone, or maybe something had happened to the others. I had no way of knowing at first, although a little later, after I’d returned to the beach, I heard from Sileas,who told me she hadn’t seen any other fairies on the island. She’s pretty thorough, and if she said there weren’t any, there weren’t. Sileas certainly had no idea how the little fairy happened to be there all by herself.
So with my fairy friend perched on my shoulder hugging my neck, I carefully got the dinghy off the sand, climbed in, and rowed back to Wind Dancer. I was half expecting the fairy to kiss me goodbye and fly back to the island, but she stayed right where she was as I got aboard Dancer, stowed the dinghy, raised the anchor, and got under way. As we got into open water, I coaxed her out from behind my hair onto my hand, which I held up with her facing the island. But she was having none of it. She kept her wings firmly folded along her back and grabbed my thumb, which she kissed again. A breeze struck her, and she clung even tighter. This fairy wasn’t going anywhere without me.
“Mama,” she said again and kissed my thumb.
I sighed and brought my hand down and turned it so she faced me. She smiled. I pointed at myself with my other hand.
“Sunny,” I said slowly and distinctly. I repeated the gesture and said my nickname several times. I wasn’t sure if she could handle the three syllables of my full name. I wasn’t even sure if she’d get the point.
But she did. “Sun-nee,” she said very slowly as she pointed at me. So I repeated my name normally a few times, and soon she was saying it normally as well. Then she jumped from my hand to my shoulder, hugged my neck, kissed my cheek and put her cheek next to mine.
“Sunny!”
I took her in my hand again and pointed at her with my other index finger. I gave her a questioning look, not at all sure if she’d understand. When it seemed she didn’t, I pointed at myself, said “Sunny,” and pointed back at her. She just shook her head, grabbed my thumb, looked at me and said “Sunny” again. Then she kissed my thumb and smiled at me.
“No name, huh?” I said to her. “Well, I’m definitely not going to call you Tinkerbell!”
I thought for a bit, then, as she kissed my thumb and said “Sunny” once more, I thought of how Earth artist Brian Froud had written, “The pixies say there can never be too much kissing!” So I kissed the tip of my free index finger and gently touched her cheek with it.
“Pixie,” I said distinctly.
She caught right on to that. She let go of my thumb and sat up in my hand, pointed at herself and said her new name. She pointed at me and said mine. Smart fairy. She seemed pretty proud of herself and she sat on my hand smiling at me.
Then a small gust rocked her and she grabbed my thumb and looked around at all the water we were sailing through. I brought my hand up close to my shoulder, and Pixie moved back to it and hugged my neck, using my hair to hide behind. I knew what she feared: being blown overboard. I had no idea how fast or how far she could fly, so I shared her concern, although Sileas quickly told me not to worry - she would make sure nothing happened to our new friend. But of course Pixie couldn’t know that. All she knew was a sudden gust could put her over the side flapping desperately to catch up with Wind Dancer. And for all she knew, some bird or fish could spot her and decide it was time for lunch. Sileas told me we had some clear sailing for a while before I’d have to start maneuvering Dancer to our first island town. I set the auto-steering and took Pixie below into the cabin.
I sat down at the little table. Pixie poked her head out and looked around, then, deciding it was safe, launched herself on an exploratory flight. She was curious about everything, it seemed, and if things hadn’t been secured, she’d probably have opened every drawer or door she could. She certainly tried. Then she fluttered to the forward cabin and the bunks. I followed, glad that the forward hatch wasn’t open for her to fly out of. She almost flew right into my face coming back out. She had one of my earrings that I occasionally wore. She avoided a collision and held the earring out to me.
“Sunny!”
“Thank you, Pixie,” I said, accepting her gift, “but it’s already mine. Everything, including Wind Dancer, is mine.” I didn’t expect her to understand property, but I hoped she’d understand my thanks.
I held out my hand and she landed on it. I carried her back to the forward cabin, where I returned the earring to its proper place, then held her close and kissed her cheek. Pixie liked that, and she leaned in and kissed my cheek. Then she spotted the mirror, which happened to be oriented so she saw our reflections in it. She was fascinated. I held her closer to the mirror. She reached out and touched her reflection. She seemed quite surprised to realize it wasn’t another fairy that could take her hand. I let her step onto the little shelf at the bottom of the mirror, and she stood there feeling the mirror’s whole surface as high as she could reach, then she fluttered up to feel the rest of it. She landed on the shelf, then moved off to one side, then she poked her head back in front of the mirror. It delighted her to see her reflection looking back at her, just as amazed as she was.
I moved so she could see my reflection in the mirror as well as her own. I moved in close. She watched me do that by watching my reflection, then she turned to mostly face me while keeping an eye on the mirror. I brought my face close to her. She leaned out to kiss my cheek while at the same time watching the mirror. As she kissed, she could see the Pixie reflection kissing the Sunny reflection. She giggled. It was a high, tinkly, and delighted sound. I had to giggle back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)