Conversation with Shasta: (End 2023)
(Shasta and Mommy are on an airplane, flying to Chicago after a five-day visit. Mommy is comfortable in her loose, gunmetal-gray, Free People travel outfit, although she ended up getting patted down thoroughly because of her voluminous clothing. That TSA woman even tapped across her chest and inner thighs. Mommy is wearing a pink, velveteen baseball cap, her Abby blue-gray agate earrings, Edinburgh Celtic cross, and black ankle boots with orthotics. Mommy is all about comfort when flying.
Her faithful traveling companion, Shasta the giant, invisible slug, hovers nearby. Shasta is bobbing up and down above the aisle, unable to sit. The plane is full on this 30th day of December. Shasta deftly ducks flight attendants. She is resplendent once again under her shiny, iridescent gold and purple-checkered cape with a pair of antique looking gold goggles and black, velvet bowler hat with holes punched out for her eye stalks. Her slug body is resting on an invisible, rectangular bamboo mat. A flight attendant walks down the aisle with snacks as Shasta moves up and to the right. Mommy eats her Atkins peanut protein bar and ginger crackers while sipping mint tea.
Mommy had another weirdly lucky morning. Cousin Gordy took her to the airport after a fine evening of Dr. Who and Agents of Shield. She had no major delays. She had no long walks from light rail. She slowly ground her way through the line, got patted down, had her diverted bag quickly put through its second inspection and then just went to the gate, with a stop for random socks – dinos for Gordy and science (Daisy) dog for his wife, Cousin Jennie, octopi for mommy. Plenty of time to pick up a tea.
Luck is where you choose to find it. No one threw out any food from her luggage anyway. Then she managed to swap her window seat for an aisle seat, helping a little girl who wanted a window seat.
Speaking of windows:
Window at The Crumpet Shop near Pike Place Market in Seattle, where ghosts make delicious lemon ricotta and other miscellaneous crumpets.
M: Sorry about the airport crowds, Shasta. These places are infested with impatient humans.
S: Airports always have a crowd, and planes are much faster than Fiona the Aged Acura. At least we do not have to tootle through Montana.
M: True. But don’t diss Fiona. She is one way we could get the dog out to Washington when we start to help sell Tacoma house. We must sell Tacoma soon. The very elderly parents in memory care will require cash infusions soon.
Shasta: We have a lot to do, mommy.
M: I’d like to keep the view up close and narrow. Water aerobics. We have to do water aerobics.
Shasta: And sell books, sell art, renew blogs, finish the Fujibrora sci fic novel, take care of Lady and Anne-Marie and daddy, manage info inflow, and tackle social media.
M: Water aerobics. We must faithfully do our PT and go to water aerobics. And run away to Costa Rica.
S: (Dubiously) Yes, mommy. But before we go live in the shadow of some volcano, we should go to Starbucks or DD and work on books and blogs. Lady needs to go to the dog park. And you should put the effin’ phone down, mommy. Too many games and no book marketing!
M: Sigh. Sometimes, a person is kind of sort of done. Too much reality and not enough time for Apple TV. They have waterfalls in Costa Rica and wildlife refuges.
S: Someday, mommy.
M: This was a weird and fun vacation. I loved spending time with Abby and Florian, plus staying at the Residence Inn Marriott in the U District, going to Pike’s Place Market with Michelle, watching Dr. Who, Harry Potter, Agents of Shield and baking shows with Gordy and Jenny, visiting Cousin Kris, going to bookstores, and fighting against the Creeping Mists.
S: (Thoughtfully) Yes, the mist sure got us, didn’t it? You loved that?
M: Not the mist itself, but I love that I keep going.
S: You sure do.
M: Bad dizzies DO sometimes lead to bad waftiness for a while. But the dizzies and I date back to before that ancient endarterectomy. Ah, well. I wonder what Florian and Abby thought. I was struggling enough so that I could believe they had quiet conversations in the background. Who me? What backpack? Key? Phone? I suck at objects generally, but…
S: Yeah. You managed, though. Kept clearing away cobwebs.
M: Me and Frodo.
S: Umm… mommy. Frodo didn’t do so good. If it weren’t for Sam…
M: There are more Samwises out there than you know, Shasta. Sams are everywhere. They absolutely turn into throngs inside the narthex of episcopal churches. They lurk in the oddest places online. Sometimes they call a person from out of nowhere. Or turn up downtown to join you for fish tacos and squash soup. I think there are many more Sams than Frodos. The Sams don’t start quests, but they manage to be on the scene when the Nazgul arrives. You can lose track of Sams because mostly they are relaxing in the garden. They compost, recycle, buy electric cars, and eat supposedly sustainable, wild caught fish, garnished with organic fruits and veggies. (Shasta giggles.) Sams are everywhere. Whether there are enough of them to save the planet, I can’t say.
S: I hope so.
M: Me, too.
