Virtual Quill

In what is probably a common reaction among grooms, Fenton got all emo about being left out of the wedding plans. (Yeah, I wish I could have that option!) These feelings came despite his having absolutely zero interest in the various tasks, or the ability to carry them out even if he did. It’s one of the major events in his life and it’s totally beyond his control. Letting him figure out the seating chart for the reception should keep him busy, even if he accomplishes it by writing special computer code.
Most of the planning is taking place at Tree, with Rachel and Rhonda and (via Skype) Tammy. Rhonda is disappointed that Fenton and I won’t be living in the Family Housing dorm next year with her and Quinn. Speaking of Quinn, he accompanies Rhonda during her visits here and he and Fenton end up on the sofa playing video games.
My bridesmaids are going to be Rhonda, Rachel, Tammy, Fiona and Corrie. Rachel wondered if her girlfriend Joan could be included, but I had to say no simply because I don’t know Joan that well. I’ve already had to turn down several of my old herbivore friends from Caliban.
Speaking of being left out, Tree (who is still on the mend) wishes that she could attend the ceremony in some fashion. I came up with a solution. Coney, as the Flower Girl, won’t be sprinkling flower petals as she walks down the aisle. Instead, Coney will use the pine needles that came off Tree during the process of being loaded onto the truck last month. (There were lots of those!)
Today's question for those of you on the east coast of the US: how many inches of snow did you get? (We just got cold, awful, nasty rain.)

When Gran married Douglas Squirrel she agreed to dig tunnels to store his considerable acorn holdings. Unfortunately, she dug too deep and the flood got into them. The seeds sprouted, and in desperation he ended up donating the little oaks to the city.
The acorns were planted in an uninhabited area bordering the Wild that was prone to erosion. Once they take root they’ll keep the soil from washing away. It’s already been named the Douglas Squirrel Botanical Gardens, although of course it will ready only be appreciated by my grandchildren.
Tree plantings have been done before, but the saplings usually end up being eaten by herbivores. What makes the difference here is Gran. She’s well known at resolving disputes by “going Medieval on one’s hindquarters” and few plant eaters would dare cross her once she put the word out that eating one of the trees would be the equivalent of stealing from her garden.
Speaking of vegetation, Tree is still slowly recovering from her ordeal. I’d say she only has about 30% of her previous abilities but she’s making progress. Fenton’s using his sonar to detect her root system’s gradual integration with the local environment.
Me, I’m still planning a wedding and doing my final projects for my degree. Rachel winked about what Fenton and I do when we’re inside Tree. Honestly? I nap.
Do humans have areas that are set aside for natural growth?

Dad was initially leery about housing the Hare-Link equipment inside Tree, which was understandable since Tree was slow in learning the ethics of our society. According to Tree, the very concept of ethics is foreign to plant life; it’s just that Tree’s intelligence and power of speech mean her actions have greater impact than that of other vegetation, including Daisy.
This led to some dangerous events before she gained our trust. Dad was the last to come around, owning to his protectiveness of me. Allowing her to keep his company’s important assets was a leap of faith for him.
Now she’s here at Beige U. (Yes, I’m writing this from inside her.) and Dad needed a new place for the equipment back home. In fact, he required extra space because Hare-Link turned out to be the hero of the flood. It was the city’s wifi that we installed for its emergency communications that allowed the various departments to flawlessly work together, with the result that no lives were lost. Not even earthworms.
The natural solution to the problem was the Fennec Boarding House. Ralph and Martha still have lots of empty space, and they’re even closer than Tree was. It was decided to use one of the unoccupied floors in the wing that George Fennec used to inhabit before the divorce.
Fenton and I helped move the equipment and set everything up. The boarding house residents all say that that their Internet connections are stronger, but that’s sort of a placebo effect; the signal’s point of origin hasn’t changed. I’m not correcting them, though!

I write this from Beige University, inside Tree. I never imagined such an occurrence could happen, so let me take the story from the beginning.
After half of my quills turned white to create a yin/yang pattern I knew I had emotional issues to deal with. I sought Tree’s input, so I left my university dorm and drove two hours through a driving rainstorm. I should’ve been paying attention to the weather reports.
Tree had also been worried about our future and, like me, saw no way of staying together without me giving up some part of my dreams. It was at that moment the evacuation order went out for the immediate area.
It was mid-afternoon, and the Wysiwyg River was rising to never-before-seen levels. Dad, Kell, Rudy and Coney were out of town, so they were okay, and our house was on high ground. Hare-Link’s equipment was stored in Tree, however, so I began moving it to Tree’s higher rooms while I listened to the news updates.
Tree told me to leave and save myself, but suddenly she went silent. That was the worst part. I was so alone, and the water was engulfing the lower floors. For the next few hours I kept carrying Fenton’s belongings to higher and higher levels. I called Dad on my cell, and they headed back to Domain as fast as they could.
Fenton flew all the way from Beige and arrived just as the flood crested. He plucked me off the high branches, and we spent the night at my family’s house. The morning revealed whole neighborhoods under water and dozens of families crowded into shelters.
My folks returned, and Dad called a tree surgeon to examine Tree. Long story short: the only way of saving her was to remove her from the loose soil and be replanted. Fortunately, Dad’s foresight led him to take out enough flood insurance to make that possible.
So here I am. While I won’t officially move in until after the wedding I anticipate spending a lot of time here helping Tree adjust to her new surroundings. When she’s better able to sustain a crowd of people inside her, we’ll have a housewarming. This song will be featured at the party.
Next week: Dad now has to find a new place to store the Hare Link equipment!

2:33 p.m. National Weather Service issues a flash flood advisory for township of Domain. Residents near the Wysiwyg River should seek higher ground.
2:49 p.m. Mayor Brenda Bruin issues alert. All city employees on emergency status.
2:55 p.m. Domain Sheriff's office sends out vehicles to low-laying neighborhoods to assist in evacuation.
3:11 p.m. 911 calls indicate rising water near the Domain ferry service.
3:17 p.m. National Weather Service reports that 21 inches of rain have fallen in the past 24 hours.
3:23 p.m. Calls to 911 increase. Rabbit warren tunnels sealed off. Earthworms are the first to evacuate.
4:12 p.m. Cell phone service disrupted due to heavy calling traffic. Media updates confirm that the Wysiwyg River is over its banks and rising rapidly.
4:45 p.m. Police cruise affected neighborhoods, issuing evacuation orders on loudspeakers. River now five feet above flood stage. Ferry service, recycling plant, water treatment plant now under water.
4:49 p.m. Board of Education press officer reports that all students of Eyetooth High School have safely been evacuated. Caliban Academy, situated on a high bluff, is out of danger.
4:53 p.m. National Weather Service issues statement that Wysiwyg River is nine feet above flood stage and rising.
5:15 p.m. Mayor Bruin issues edict prohibiting all looting and all predation during crisis. She assures all that the city emergency staff continues to function thanks to having the foresight to create its own wi-fi network, maintained by the local company Hare-Link.
5:37 p.m. National Weather Service reports that river is 14 feet above floor stage. Number of affected homes are in the dozens.
6:45 p.m. Wysiwyg River crests at 19 feet above flood stage. Some homes are completely underwater. Miraculously, thanks to the citywide preparedness and its communication network, no deaths are reported.

I woke on Saturday (around 5:30 p.m.) and discovered that about half of my quills had turned white. This has happened once before, but in that case it was after I’d received an intense scare. These days it isn’t fear that’s causing emotional distress, but the conflicting feelings tearing at me.
As I begin my final semester I find myself hurtling toward decisions that I believed I wouldn’t have to make for a few years. Not in marrying Fenton; in retrospect I’d made up my mind to do that long ago. What’s eating at me is what comes after. As I analyze things, I guess that I had been putting off that eventuality, and dealing with it by ignoring it. (There was once an expression referring to “The elephant in the room” but elephants protested that it was size-ist so now it’s no longer PC.)
Ignoring it is no longer an option. Come June, after our honeymoon, we’ll either be settling into a life in Domain or we’ll be heading to a university where I can continue my research and career. Yes, I know that it’s possible to get a Master’s and even a Ph.D. online, but in my field of genetics I’d require incredibly expensive equipment. Also, in this burgeoning field I’d need to be on a department staff where I could be part of a team, co-writing papers and making contacts at conferences.
I’ve talked to Fenton about a little of this, but thanks to my tell-tale quills it’s obvious that my subconscious is forcing me to come to an immediate resolution. Classes here at Beige won’t start until mid-week, so I have a few days to sort things out. I’m going home (without Fenton) for a heart-to-heart talk with someone who will be vastly impacted by the decision we make...and who is also manifesting the emotions of stress and uncertainty.
Tree.
No question this week. Just...wish me luck.

Fenton and returned early to school from Christmas break, mainly because I have a ton of research to finish up before I graduate in May. And no, I still haven't given any thought to what comes after that. Intense focus to the exclusion of all else is what's gotten me this far, so why stop now?
Thing is, for the first time my singular focus is divided between the work needed to graduate and my wedding preparations. Fenton is being as supportive as he can, but there's nothing he can do for the first task and little that he's capable of doing for the second.
Tree is bothered as well. (I was surprised that trees had nightmares; I didn't know they slept.) I think her dream is a sign that she fears being severed from Fenton, but heck; I'm no psychology major.
This little suburban world of ours is going to be changing, and I'm the reason. Ironically, all the time I was growing up with Angelique in the household I craved stability. I finally found it, and now I'm leaving.
It's going to be an interesting year.
So, what are your plans for New Year's Eve?

I’m home from college after the fall semester, and I repeated my Christmas tree impression one more time for the family. I’m now down to business doing the gift shopping, which is always a challenge since fall semester usually ends less than a week before the holiday.
I’m feeling nostalgic, as this will be my last Christmas before Fenton and I start our own family. No, it’ll just be the two of us for a while, but still, things will be different next year. I’m paying more attention than usual to the little Dewclaw family traditions we have: Kell crying at old movies on TV, Dad eating the mistletoe, Rudy attempting to buy earrings that Fiona doesn’t already own and Coney trying to sneak downstairs in the middle the night on Christmas Eve only to encounter nocturnal me guarding the presents. I’ll miss all that.
Yes, I know, I’ll be living within Tree just down the street, at the bottom of the hill. The thing is, I’d always planned on going to graduate school and getting a Ph.D. I can’t do that here in Domain. This whole graduation business came upon me suddenly, and in five months, it’ll be here.
What do I want for Christmas? Time to make decisions that’ll impact my entire life.
Now Fenton and I are off to see “Avatar.” It’s about a herbivore mentally controlling the body of a blue predator. Today's question for those of you who saw the movie this weekend, what did you think?

It was fun being decorated like a Christmas tree. It was for the party that Rhonda and Quinn threw at the family housing dorm, and I was a big hit with the students’ young children. (All under five.) I didn’t stand in one place, through, so people couldn’t place presents beneath me. Fenton took a picture and sent it to Tree back home, who replied with great mirth. She called me the daughter she’d never had. It was just a temporary costume, of course, as already my quills are growing back.
Back home, four-year-old Coney is at the stage where she’s asking questions about Santa. Every child goes through a stage of believing that lasts until about age six or seven, when the inherent contradictions of the story cause it to collapse. Still, it’s instructive as it teaches self-control for both carnivores and herbivores.
It the case of carnivores, that was the reason for Santa being the most tempting of targets: an elderly, overweight prey species clad in easy-to-spot bright red. Young predators had to balance the immediate gratification of eating Santa against the consequence of never receiving presents in the future. They learned that “good boys and girls” chose the long view, and thereby began to appreciate the benefits of conserving limited resources.
The custom of setting out plates of foliage for Santa to browse tries to do the same for herbivore children, but with less effectiveness. I was raised as a plant eater, and was told that if I ate Santa’s leaves he’d starve to death. With all that fat on him, I didn’t buy it. The little plate left on the fireplace wasn’t going to make that much of a difference to his survival! Still, I’m sure I’ll tell the same story to my children.
To the humans out there, I assume your Santa is human as well. Does he fulfill a similar role of influencing the behavior of human children?

Fenton and I are back at Beige after spending the weekend at home decorating Tree. She puts a great deal of effort into her appearance, which leads me to wonder if she’s unusual in that regard or if other trees are similarly inclined but just aren’t able to express themselves. I especially wonder about deciduous trees and their gaudy fall colors.
Danielle created shoes for Francis to wear, which makes sense. During the brief time that Fenton and I were in the human world, buying shoes was one of the first things we did. If we had stayed for any length of time our bare feet would have developed protective callouses, but that wouldn’t have solved the cultural problem. All of the humans that we encountered wore shoes, and we didn’t want to stand out more than we probably did. “Look at that couple! They’re eating crickets! And they’re not wearing shoes!”
On this side of the portal the only shoe-wearing species is the horse, and purely for protective purposes. The idea of wearing them as ornamentation doesn’t exist here, probably because with all of our fur we have so many other ways of expressing vanity.
I’m not immune from that. Tonight I’m going to find out what it’s like for someone to decorate me.
So, what kind of shoes do you humans wear?

I'm back at school after the Thanksgiving holidays. As usual, Fenton and I had two Thanksgiving meals, twelve hours apart, one with my family and one with his. The major thing to report about the Fuscus meal is that this was the first extended visit I've had with them since I agreed to set the wedding date. Mrs. Fuscus was inordinately pleased, looking like the cat that ate the canary. (Do you humans have an expression like that?)
Over at my family's tree the main event was the presence of Kell's identical cousin Sheila and her date, Kell's office rival Frank Mangle. After a few catty comments on his part (to be expected, I guess), he settled down and was on his best behavior. Sheila was nervous at first, but she was relieved when it was all over. All told it went as well as one could hope. I'm sure it won't be the last time we see them together.
I took the opportunity to compare the DNA between Kell and Sheila. I'd suspected that they were actually twins that were raised apart, but I couldn't imagine why Elanor would hide something like that. It turned out she didn't. Sheila is as advertised, the daughter of Elanor's late sister, while Kell is indeed the offspring of Franklin and Elanor. So, no big revelation there.
The "identical" business really isn't accurate. Their markings are the same, and their scent is close enough to throw off anyone who doesn't know them well, but once you see them together for a while you can observe the differences. I'm pretty sure Mr. Mangle has observed them already. Wink. Wink.
Today's question (for those who celebrated Thanksgiving): How many relations were at your Thanksgiving meal?

By mutual agreement, we’ve all decided to step back and take a deep breath regarding wedding plans. I’ve got my gown and we’ve reserved the Unitarian church for June 5, so for now we’re not going to think about anything more until the holidays are over.
As usual, nothing ever stands still around here. Kell’s identical cousin Sheila has attracted the attention of one of Kell’s co-workers, a lion named Frank Mangle. He’s the father of Leona, part of Rudy’s hunting foursome. They met when Sheila came to a hunting competition to watch Rudy.
Mr. Mangle is on the same level as Kell in the Herd Thinners hierarchy, which means they’re in direct competition. R.L. has engineered his organization as a zero-sum game, which discourages cooperation. Thus, whenever Kell wins, he loses, and vice versa. It’s to Kell’s credit that she doesn’t let that affect her relationships with the rest of the employees. (Of course, it helps that she’s one of the best!)
I won’t even begin to speculate on the inner workings of Mr. Mangle’s emotions that draw him to a lookalike of his workplace rival. Kell, ever agreeable, has invited both of them over for Thanksgiving under the instruction that no one discusses Herd Thinners.
Mr. Mangle has an interesting background. I’ll repeat this part of my blog of 9/30/07 when I reported on Leona’s joining the hunting team: “He’s a single father who (in the eyes of his species) works in the traditionally female role of a hunter. Kell told me the backstory: When Leona was eight, her mother died after a lengthy illness. While she’d been sick she’d been unable to hunt, so her husband Frank secretly learned to take down prey to feed his family and so that people would think his wife was still healthy and active as a predator. It was supposed to be just a temporary arrangement until she recovered, but fate had other ideas.
“Mr. Mangle had become quite good at hunting, so after his wife’s death he applied to Herd Thinners and was hired. This, of course, meant that he was ostracized from his lion pride. Kell has faced similar pressures, but in Mr. Mangle’s case it caused him to develop a rather large chip on his shoulder. He’s surly toward Kell and to pretty much everyone else...except for his daughter.”
And now, an additional exception: Sheila Dewclaw.
This week: What are you thankful for?

When I walked into my advisor’s office on Monday I had no idea that less than a week later I’d be here at home looking at my wedding dress hanging in my closet. It’ll stay there until June 5, the day I’ll become Lindesfarne Fuscus.
What happened is that during my first three years of high school I was a herbivore, during which I’d taken a large number of Advanced Placement classes in foraging Then, just before my senior year I switched to my natural hedgehog insectivore diet. (Long story) Things may work differently on the human side (since you’re all one species), but here a college degree involves instruction in both your field of study and your diet. I thought I was still looking at two years of insectivore courses after I’d finished my genetics studies, but that all changed due to recent reforms in species classification. Suddenly I was cleared to graduate in May.
This knocked me on my quills. While I’ve never doubted my love for Fenton, I wasn’t prepared for a wedding so soon. My initial instinct was to rebel against Fenton’s mother who would surely hold me to my vow to marry immediately after graduation. It took my roommate Rachel to direct my view to what was really important, which was Fenton himself. (This also means that next fall Rachel will be available to room with her girlfriend Joan Hoof when Joan enrolls at Beige.)
I gave Fenton the news in flight, which meant that I’m still finding pieces of billboard in my quills. We flew back to Domain for the weekend to give the word to my parents, his parents and Tree, and on Saturday we visited the dressmaker. I’d actually picked out the gown a while ago, so the silkworms were able to complete the job by the end of the day.
We’ll be back at school by nightfall, and of course we’ll return next week for Thanksgiving. I’ll be trying to keep Fenton involved in the wedding preparations, but he’s not shown any great interest in the details. It’ll probably end up being an estrogen thing, planned by me, the two mothers and my posse of Rhonda, Rachel and (via long distance) Tammy. With my bridesmaids being a tiger, a rhino, a moth, a fennec fox (Fiona) and a sheep (Corrie), it’ll be a challenge finding a gown that’ll look good on all of them.
Any suggestions? (today's question)

Thanks to everyone who wrote in with comments last week! Danielle has been taking your advice, and she’s found she can fashion infant-safety devices by adapting products made for keeping predators out.
Life in Domain has calmed down, according to Dad. This does tend to follow a pattern. People get riled up, go out yelling and ranting over something, and just as suddenly it dies down and life goes on as people adapt to the thing that they once thought of as intolerable.
We’ve gone back to our usual routine. Every morning Danielle, George and Francis come over to the treehouse and head down to the Hare-Link office. George spends the morning tending Francis, and around 1:00 the preschool bus drops off Coney. Coney then spends the afternoon with Francis as George takes care of them both. Dad, Ralph and Danielle keep the ISP running, and send any tech problems to me and Fenton. Customer service is still handled by Candace down in New Zealand.
Here at Beige I’ve finally begun writing papers for possible publication in peer-reviewed research journals. Meanwhile, tomorrow (Monday) I have an appointment with my academic advisor. This is unusual; she said it was something she had to tell me in person.
The weekly question is for those of you with preschoolers. What childcare options do you have?

I heard all about last night’s Halloween back home, how Francis dressed up as a rabbit while Coney and all of the neighborhood kids went as humans. (They used the characters from Rudy’s webcomic as models.)
In light of Francis’s metamorphosis, Rudy is now even more reluctant to return to his human-themed webcomic “Rondo and Viola.” He put it on hiatus to focus on the hunting team, which led to his becoming co-captain so the move seems to have worked out. Still, he probably needs a creative outlet of some sort. He did get a lot of positive attention from “R&V,” which was really important to building his confidence in general. He was a Guest of Honor at Manthrocon in Pennsylvania and got e-mails from all over the world. Heady stuff.
Meanwhile, the main change in Francis’s behavior is an increase in his curiosity, which first became evident during the incident where he was going over to the Fennec boarding house and stealing food from traps. That was before his transformation, and he was climbing and swinging like the primates that normally reside in this world. Now that he’s fully human he’s ceased climbing, but his urge to explore has gone off the scale.
Danielle told me this was normal for human babies, but she’s frustrated because she had so little experience with them during her life on the other side of the portal. She was the youngest of her family, and she left her world before becoming a mom, so she only has the vaguest idea on how to human-proof a home. So, today's question is for Danielle: how does she keep Francis from getting into everything he's not supposed to?