He does, but he’s distant from that side of the family. BTW, here’s the Dewclaw family tree: http://kevinandkell.com/2002/kk0526.html
As I continue to wander the practically deserted campus of Beige University during summer semester, doing my best to administer to the emotional needs of plant life, I sometimes think this is all an elaborate prank that Tree is pulling on me. After all, I only have her word that she’s doing actual translations. Also, she’s still new to our ethical standards of behavior (although she’s come a long way in that regard).
I have noticed that when I circle back to places I’ve visited after a week or so, the flora that I’ve “spoken to” tend to demonstrate a remarkable change in growth and overall health. As a researcher, I’ve begun taking specific measurements to see if this is more than anecdotal. Tree is disappointed, though, as I said I’ll need a control group of plants that I never speak to. She wants me to talk to everyone.
Back home, Rachel and Joan have returned from their Honeymoon and have moved into their tree. The beaver crew were true to their word; completed on time and in great shape. Tree was relieved when I told her.
Finally, the family is preparing to pack Coney off to Predator Camp again. Maybe some year things will go smoothly there.
With Rachel and Joan on their honeymoon I was finally able to sit back and take stock of what recent events have meant for me on a personal level. While I still I question the ultimate worth of my online ordination, it has crystallized the part of my personality that has always been prominent; the desire to help others.
It was a few months ago that Tree first told me that she’d always seen me as a spiritual advisor, and that I could do the same for other plants through her translations. I let that slide as other life events took precedence, but now with the ceremony over I came back to it. How exactly would Tree translate another plant’s speech…whatever form that speech may take?
Tree said it all happens through their root systems (as I’d speculated, although airborne pheromones were another possibility). Tree’s immediate root system is still limited after being transplanted from Domain, and it isn’t as extensive as some her age, but as long as she reaches the maple across the street she’s connected to everybody. (Yes, even the flowers she detests.)
She alone has the intelligence to communicate with fauna like me, and since she’s wired into the net she can speak to me via my phone as I go from plant to plant. I don’t know what form my speech becomes when Tree translates my responses back to them, but so far the foliage around the neighborhood is doing well.
And what concerns do the plants have? Mostly requests for watering, and fair bit about canine urinary habits.
The weather was beautiful on the day of Rachel and Joan’s nuptials. Like anyone who chooses an outdoor wedding venue they were taking a huge risk, but their luck held. The fallback option in case of rain was the Caliban Academy gym, which is barely adequate for school dances.
There was a tent set up, and two hours before the ceremony the wedding party gathered for the photographer to get shots of everyone. Of course, the two brides had their own picture-taking devices as well. As a geek I always applaud triple redundancy.
Three local shelties were hired as ushers, and when the guests began arriving the found themselves herded to their assigned seats. Dad, Kell, Rudy and Coney were there; mainly due to my role, probably.
At the designated hour the musicians began playing the William Tell Overture, and the bridesmaids paraded down the aisle. (Fiona was resplendent.) then the two brides each made their way to the altar. That was my cue.
They’d written their own vows, and I read the texts that they’d assigned for me. It was like being in a play, only this was a serious transition for two friends that are very close to me. At the end of the ceremony they had moved on to a brand new stage of life’s journey.
It was a transition for me as well. More on that next week.
I’ll hold on to it for old time’s sake. :)
Joan and Rachel’s wedding is days away, and Fenton and I drove up to Domain as the festivities got underway. As the person officiating I don’t have the same roles as a bridesmaids and rest of the wedding party, but they still want me to participate nonetheless.
Once again we stayed with Fenton’s parents and Dip the sheep. (He’s still involved with the poodle who has my old room at my parents’ house) As one of the bridesmaids, Fiona is quite busy; that leaves Rudy to mainly hang around with Bruno playing video games.
Dad is juggling the net neutrality issue at Hare Link. He’s doing his best to make sure all of our clients have equal access and equal bandwidth, but once the data is beyond the HareLink servers there’s nothing he can do.
Rudy and Gran have each planted their gardens on plots of land that are the same size. Now it’s a matter of seeing what comes up, and keeping the vegetable thieves away. The real excitement won’t come until harvest time.
Finally, Coney and her friends will be heading back to camp in a few weeks. I wonder if they’ve done anything to improve the security measures.
Gotta run; a happy couple need to say some vows.
That’s just how Joan is. She cares deeply about her friends, but she doesn’t realize that she sometimes steps over the line. In this case, she isn’t wrong in that someone in Lindesfarne’s professional position shouldn’t dress like a high school student.
That was Rudy’s reaction.
Okay, I’ll admit that clothing is low on my list of priorities. That’s partly due to the hedgehog (and porcupine) tradition of wearing attire that just covers our fronts; our quills take care of our backs. Yes, it’s drafty. Think of hospital gowns and you start to see why we don’t see *anything* as flattering.
I didn’t realize just how much I’d been ignoring my appearance until Joan brought it up with her usual…undiluted…tact. She presented me with a range of outfits not just for her wedding but for all the time. A full makeover in other words.
The reasoning was that I’m 22, married, a grad student and still dressing as if I was still in high school. I have a logical mind and I couldn’t argue against having a more professional wardrobe.
Instead of choosing one of Joan’s designs I went online. I used the process of elimination, bringing up thousands of possibilities and discarding the ones that didn’t fit my self-image. Methodical, but it led me to a style I’m comfortable with.
Fenton seemed to approve as well. His thoughts turned in a procreative direction.
Yes, we used protection.
It’s the time of year when Rudy begins planting vegetables; an endeavor that gains him spending money and most importantly, attention and notoriety.
Usually it’s Dad who provides the necessary competitive conflict that drives him, but with Rudy’s space now taking up the entire yard there was no room for him to plant anything. So, Gran stepped in to provide a rival; with a slight dose of Betrayal to fire him up further.
They had been partners last year, and had bonded in their own way. Now, we’ll see what grows from this situation.
I wonder if the resulting vegetation will require counseling.