She: You’re up early.
He: Technically, I’m up late.
She: The house smells good.
He: I made the shortbreads.
She: That took you all night?
He: Not exactly.
She: The game?
He: No. I finished that.
She: (knowingly), The game?
He: A little bit.
She: Define “a little bit”.
He: … (to be continued)
The Telescope: Episode 2
Many hours earlier he returned home from work, it was 11:00 PM.
He: (to himself), If I start right now I could probably get the cookies made before midnight. But first I’ll just check to see if anybody visited my blog today.
He: Nearly 200, neat.
He: OK, I’m off to make the cookies. But first I’ll just take a quick look around the internet to see if there’s a picture of a telescope I can use a a model.
(This he did.)
He: Here’s a nice one:
He: Hmmm, It says, “3d Telescope”, I wonder what that means…
(Looks at the clock)
He: It’s midnight? I better get the butter out of the fridge.
(Goes to the fridge, takes out the butter, cuts it into cubes, leaves it in a bowl on the counter to soften.)
He: (The internal monologue continues.) That’s done… now I have about half an hour to work on the telescope before I can really do anything cookie-wise.
The lens seems like a good place to start:
This looks good.
Now I need the brass bits that surround the lens:
This is acceptable, but I wonder if I can turn it into a 3d image. I’ll start with the lens:
OK, this looks good, I can play with this:
Now I’ll have to try the same thing with the brass front:
(He played around with the extrusion. He played around with the front bevel, and the back bevel. Then he played around with the front inflation and also the back inflation. Then he looked at the clock…)
He: (Amazingly amazed) 4:00!!
Away to the kitchen he flew like a flash, tore open the cupboards, and turned on the gas. Mixed the flour with cornstarch, the butter with sugar, stirred in the vanilla and the prepared flour mixture.
A dusting of flour where he rolled out the dough on his old kitchen counter looked like new fallen snow.
And then to his wandering mind did occur that he didn’t know where his cookie cutters were.
No pine trees, no angels, no snowmen, no holly. No north star, no reindeers, no Santa, oh golly!
Like dry leaves before the wild hurricane flew, he frantically searched every place that he knew.
And then in a twinkling he remembered they’re kept… in a bag, in the closet, in the room where she slept.
(to be continued)