Pooferific

Ben and I spent hours in studio, with the fortune teller. Scuba gear would better serve to replace missing safety goggles with the air hose attached.
I couldn't find the scuba hoses.

If we don't clean the studio soon, we may have to torch it and start over.


Ravyn and I spent hours working on some very minute details for Poppet Planet. Hard work, but the technology was good. Instant, instant, instant. Not quite flying cars, but pretty damned good. I began to truly appreciate the effectiveness of fonts. Seriously. Once I saw it, I wondered how I missed it before. Huh.


In between there were the usual phone calls and emails, writing and schedules, people stopping by.


In the evening Orion and I went to Vons. We made it an adventure in silliness. When we got home, we put everything away and made "anti- smores", which is Ritz crackers and mini marshmallows, stuck on with peanut butter and toasted in the broiler of an old and sometimes slightly sinister-looking oven.

We made a game of who could stick the most marshmallows on a cracker without stacking.
Then we ate the loose marshmallows left.
Then, while we watched them swell (poof) through the oven door, we made up words with poof.

"Look, they're slightly poofy."
"No, they're quite poofious"
"Sir, the poofericity is increasing."
"But yes, they're oh so Poofilicious... don't call me 'sir'.
"Sorry, your Poofness."
and so on in the manner that makes four-year-olds collapse in giggles.

The giggling may have gone on longer, but in just moments, our anti-smores were quite brown and, once out of the heat, quite ordinary looking but very tasty.

It seems there are never enough moments like these. There never were. We tend sometimes to work hard, investing in our futures, when finally we might find out if we invested enough in good memories.

But there were some. Thank goodness for the some.

Eventually, there will be more. Because, as our dear Mr. King says, "Everything's eventual."