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Does It Really Matter?

The morning after broke fair and bright and the day was served up with all the trimmings: the sun, the sky, the birdsong. But that was on the outside. It was different in the heart. A stalled low-level depression accompanied by grey skies about sums it up. Nature may have smiled but there was no smile in the Genome. It makes little difference when facing a trial by fire that you've got a nice day for it. 

Consider Napoleon happily overseeing the installation of French administrators in the Cairo offices of the Egyptian antiquities department. He must have felt very satisfied with the way things had worked out. The weather only added to his buoyant mood; the sky was Mediterranean blue and the clouds were puffy and white—just the kind of day one hopes for when visiting Cairo—and then Nelson sailed the British fleet into the harbor and set fire to all the French ships. Think about that next time you feel the Universe has let you down.

 The bamboo grove in the Courtyard at Straw Valley

I pondered the mystery of Napoleon's narrow escape as I pushed along toward the courtyard at Straw Valley. Did he have a train hidden away in the desert somewhere? Some of the best generals do hide trains in strategic places. I believe it was a favorite tactic of Garibaldi. I'm not sure about that. I can ask the Muse when I see her.

The weather continued fine and a nuthatch sang in the shrubbery near the side gate as I approached the bamboo grove. No reason not to sing, of course, I just mention it in passing.

It was Lupe who suggested a morning out with friends at Straw Valley and I thought it a particularly good suggestion. Just goes to show how the Fate sisters love their practical jokes.

Entering the east gate, I heard voices and realized that, though the hour was early, I was not the first to arrive. A long table was placed not too near the door, but near enough for a quick escape if a q. e. was called for. Seated there were the Muse and the Saint, both enjoying an espresso. I knew it was espresso by the look on their faces. Nothing else comes close.

Sophie was seated between the two mentioned enjoying a cup of tea. I don’t know how that’s possible, first thing in the morning, but I swear it’s true. The table was quite long, large enough to seat about 10 people, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it.

Muse and Saint were in animated conversation while Sophie, seated between the two, seemed only interested in her tea.

"Sorry, no room," the Saint remarked when he saw me approaching.

"Very funny," I said and took a chair near them but across the table.

"I was just saying to the Saint," said the Muse, "that a margherita pizza would be the perfect thing for lunch, don't you agree? 

"I do like margherita pizza," I said, "but today I'm planning to have butternut-squash ravioli."

"Oh," said the Muse, "if it's squash ravioli you want, the very best, hand-made, squash ravioli is made in Fidenza."

"Fidenza? Is that near Milan?"

"No, not Milan--Fidenza."

"Don't let the people in Bologna hear you say that," said the Saint. 

"People in Bologna have the tortellini," said the Muse. "Just saying...."

"I'll get a coffee," I said as I rose and began ankling toward the barista station.

"Don't order anything with milk in it," said the Muse, "it's too early in the day for that and I should have to leave if you do."

Sophie's eyes opened wide at hearing this and I was expecting her to ask about the correct time of day to have milk in coffee but it didn’t happen. Sophie doesn’t drink coffee. I know! I can only wonder if she was never exposed to George and Nespresso. That could explain it I suppose. After a brief pause, she finally spoke, but not about coffee.

"Why is a raven like a writing desk," she asked directing her gaze toward me.

"Oh good, a riddle," I said. "I enjoy riddles. Let me think. Ravens and writing desks."

"Not plural," said Sophie. "Just raven and desk."

"Right," I said. "I think I've heard this one before."

"So you think you can solve it?" Sophie asked.

"I do," I said.

"Good," she said, "because Alice was able to solve it and I do so want to know the answer."

"Of course, I remember now," I said, "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I knew I'd heard the riddle before."

"You only thought you had heard it," said the Saint.

"I was pretty certain," I said.

"Maybe," said the Muse.

"Alright," I said. I don't know why I said it. I just did.

The conversation dropped and we sat silent for a moment while I tried to remember everything I knew about ravens and writing desks; not much as it turned out.

"Have you solved the riddle yet?" Sophie asked.

"Nope," I said shaking my head. "I give up."

"Too bad," said Sophie.

"Get some coffee," said the Saint.

"I'm still deciding," I said. I didn't want to get a coffee with milk because I didn't want to take a chance of the Muse leaving and I had a question or two about Fidenza.

"Tell us a story," said Sophie.

"I think I'll get coffee now," I said.

"I'll have another double espresso, thank you," said the Muse.

"Really?" I said. "I've never known you to have more than one at a sitting."

"It isn't for me," she said. "It's for the mouse in the flower pot outside."

I raised an eyebrow and gave her a look. You know the look I mean. You would have given the same look had you been there. She raised an eyebrow and returned the look. It was an opposite but equal look. I glanced at the Saint and at Sophie and they too were giving me looks with eyebrows raised. I don't know when I've experienced a day with so many eyebrows. Mine was far outnumbered.

I walked to the Order Here spot and was greeted by Amy Normal, Backup Mistress of the South Durham Night, and rogue barista. 

“What are you looking at?” she said.

“You've done something with your hair,” I said.

“I decided to ornament the topknot. Spice things up you know?"

"Very nice," I said, "but the cats will surely miss them."

"They were the only feathers I had," she said. "Wanna make a smartass comment about them?'

"No, no," I said. "Very becoming."

“You know, Genome,” she said, “we had high hopes for you when you were young. You seemed so bright and full of fun. But now…just look at you. What happened?”

I pondered the question for what seemed a long time but was probably only a moment. At that same moment, Princess Amy awoke and directed my attention to the door. As I could think of nothing in common for ravens and writing desks, I decided I would deliver that double espresso the the mouse in the flower pot myself.

As I passed their table on my way to the door, I overheard the Saint say, "Spread the love, Brother." The Muse was shaking her head. "Total eclipse of the heart." I heard her say. Just to set the record straight, it wasn't a mouse in the flower pot out in the courtyard; it was Miles. And I thought he was in Paris!