Had a lovely day; back on Californian soil, at the land of claimless bags, my own Ubiquibag in hand, heavy-laden with loot. Trip: success!

Will most likely do a photo-write-up of the trip to-morrow; then back to standard-grade blagocontent. A race of warlike sheep, terrorizing their peaceable lion neighbors, until they are interrupted by an outside force, is most certainly to be anticipated.

In general, that is. No relation to whatever I'll end up blagging.

PAX has rather a lot of lines. Just as well, then, that they have developed the most advanced line-waiting technology in the world.

Seriously, it's high-caliber stuff. Can't say a word against it. Even if you wanted to - they have mind-control rays for that!

Ah - no - said too much

Also, no sign of known acquaintances at PAX, even those we know to be here. Slight vexation.

Reunited with family last night. Movement proves more difficult with three; as a plus, actual camera allows improved photography of costumed persons.

Waited in line half an hour this morning for, as it transpired, the line-waiting experience. Very odd.

V. tired. Dining at "Rock Bottom", which, surprisingly, appears to be a chain. Still an unfortunate name.

May help set a world record, later tonight. One hopes.

(Update: 8 TF2 classes spotted. No alcoholic, yet.)

Characters I've seen cosplay past me in the last 30 seconds:
1. Moogle; someone's toddler.
2. Professor Science. (Well, actually, it was just a T-shirt, but still.)
3. GODOT. With "Hold it!" sign in hand!

If I were only faster to react - ahh!

(I've been seeing the TF2 cast all day; at least 6 classes. Popular!)

Some confusion over transit, but I'm in and feeling great.

Scott Pilgrim is here!

Virginia City is not in Virginia! Instead, it's a tourist trap. (A historic tourist trap.) Visit the world-famed Suicide Table!

I do not think it is actually world-famous.

The brave knights stand atop their noble boat, making their way back. Some are seasick -all are homesick. So it is with great relief and excitement that the knights react when one cries out, "There, there! The shore, the shore!" Possessed by this excitement, one knight steals the wheel - the helmsman fights back - the other knights cry out, with increasing alarm, "The shore, the shore!" - and the boat, striking jagged rocks, swiftly sinks.

Alas for the knights, so gaily clad in shining steel! Their tragedy repeats through all of history.

(We went rafting yesterday!)

Exciting news: we are all soup!

(currently On a Boat. Hooray!)

Biking in Tahoe!

1. Horrific traffic. Woo!
2. The trail. But - which way?
3. The truth uncovered. A Nikolas gloats.
4. The Menace of the Pedal-Pushers. Swift death avoided.
5. Misadventures with bolts.
6. The trail ends. A terrible hunger rises.
7. The Restaurants of Summer.
Epilogue: There and Back Again.

A more complete accounting, &/ photos, to follow.

Two stories are told to my youngest cousin, just four years old. For the first, I attempt (more-or-less by his request) to teach him about the planets. He gives up by Jupiter. The second - pointing to a painting of an old rusty car hanging on the wall, one of my grandmother's, small-cousin inquires as to what causes its state. Swiftly, my father & grandfather leap into action, telling him of how my uncle (young-cousin's father) borrowed the car & reduced it to such a state in just three weeks, returning it to my grandfather to be repaired. My uncle looks on wryly; young-cousin is delighted. Entertaining lies are our family's favourite product.

Of course, I once persuaded a young-cousin (on the other side of the family) that President Lincoln was a) a character in the New Testament & b) sixteen feet tall, so I can hardly stand innocent in the matter.

Ahhh, good times.

The cat, now 23 years old (remarkable!), soldiers on. Arthritic, deaf, cataract...ic... but still trooping. He sheds, despite my grandparents' grooming of him. (With a Shop-Vac.) We - my cousin and I - pet him all the same. How else to show our respect? What else could we do? - when he may not be long for this world.

Mssr. Ethan, aka "Sib-Sib", fares poorly at the hands (and fists, and improvised weapons) of his young cousins. He suggests that, perhaps, we should not encourage them. He is probably right.

Ding dong! DING DONG!

The orchard-trees stretch out in all directions, as far as the girl can see. Their shadows are deep and green, and the air about then posesses an earthy fragrance.

She waits there for some hours, in the shade of the orchard; the sun sets; she rises, and begins the trip home. And while she is still under the trees, she does not even feel bitter.

The Grapevine is a long mountain pass, the gateway from North to South. Accordingly, it would make an excellent chokepoint in case of Chinese invasion. But the US military is overcommitted & unprepared. Who, then, will hold the pass?

The Turks, of course, back to defend their long-lost territories.

(They have Janissaries, and great big bombards. It's their civilization's unique trait!)

The Zhang stalks, fangs outstretched. "The womons reject me?" he asks, rhetorically. "Well then - I shall build a great machine, and send lava and death into the world. When humanity is dead, THEN will they so blithely spurn me?"

"They'll be corpses," a nearby minion notes.

The Zhang blinks.

"Corpses may not reject you, but have certain other disadvantages," the minion clarifies.

The Zhang will have to ponder this!

A panoply of gods appear before me. They cry out, "Who shall rule us?" Cunningly, I say: "He who scripts the best Python!" But my ploy is defeated;

Who knew what skill Hermes had?