You know, I thought yesterday was a bit subdued because of the book reading. Yesterday was Volcano Day in Lord of the Rings. There was a bit of discussion about whether or not to feel sorry for Gollum’s death, but nobody’s heart was in it. The attitude was summed up by Cherry, who said, “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” Apparently nobody else did, either. In particular Dragonfly didn’t say a word about it, and that seemed pretty weird at the time.

Well, now I know. They were quiet because they were plotting and planning. And here’s the result (photo attached)- a birthday cake! Yes, they looked it up on the computers and found out that today really is my forty-second birthday. Starlight and Dragonfly must have mentioned it to the others after my chat with Dragonfly’s mom.

Quick tangent here- no, Dragonfly is not a princess. If she was there would be tens of thousands of princesses. Apparently changelings can mate without one of them being a queen, but the queen is mother to most of the drones under her rule, or so Dragonfly says. And in any case, Chrysalis doesn’t really encourage family bonds. Nobody calls her “Mom” to her face. All this is what Dragonfly tells me, and it sounds like there’s a ton more family dysfunction just under that blanket that I don’t want to get involved with- especially considering how shit-her-nonexistent-pants terrified she looked when I called her “Princess Dragonfly” as a joke. I won’t do that twice.

But back to cake. You see the photo- it’s a lovely thing, isn’t it? Fancy yellow and red and blue icing that spells out HAPPY 42 MARK in three languages. (Yes, three. You see those stars, rainbows, horseshoes and things around the perimeter? Those aren’t decoration. That’s actually Ancient Pony pictograms or somesuch. I wonder how you write O THE DIABETES in Ancient Pony?)

Anyway, yeah- beautiful cake. But I knew damn well we had nothing for cake-making. So after congratulating the kids on their work (it’s cake!), documenting it for posterity (it’s cake!), and singing the pony version of the birthday song (it’s cake!), I got them to admit the horrible truth (it isn’t cake).

My forty-second birthday was celebrated with a cake sculpted out of mashed potatoes.

To be specific, the ponies microwaved about ten potatoes again and again until they were total mush, removed the skins, mixed in a bunch of salt so it wouldn’t be absolute misery to try to eat, sculpted the pile into a cake shape (two layers), stuck it back in the microwave for one more pass, then used magic to seal up the fault lines and to change the color on the surface so it looked like it was iced. And, waste not want not, they took the potato skins plus some more sliced potatoes and used them to make chips like we did at the party a couple weeks back.

But there was one bright spot. Between the two layers they spread a layer of mustard- they found some mustard packs stashed somewhere or other, the last Earth-produced condiment in the Hab, and they used it up to give this alleged cake a flavor other than dreadful. Now mustard isn’t my favorite sauce in the world, but it tastes a hell of a lot better than plain mashed potato, so all in all it was a success.

So we ate “cake” and chips, played games (but not Pin the Antenna, because Spitfire’s result deserves to stand as perfection for all time), and discussed birthday traditions. As you’ve read, ponies have birthday parties like our kids do, but there’s no shame in playing what we humans would call kiddie games. If it’s fun (and won’t cause trouble if done in public), they do it, because what’s so great about growing up anyway?

(Note: Cherry mentions one big birthday party where everybody got to take rides on what sound like baby hippos. My brain just does not want to process that image.)

Dragonfly tells me the hive didn’t even track birthdays until the space race began, but the custom is beginning to catch on with the prosperity of her hive these days. Changelings don’t throw parties, though; it’s a simple, quiet, private exchange of gifts and maybe a trip with a few friends to do something fun together. (Note to self: must get a better description of this “Fun Machine” Dragonfly mentioned. Her first attempt to explain was something like a Marvel fan explaining the first Avengers movie to someone who’s never seen it.)

Fireball says dragons don’t do birthdays because they have this condition called “greed growth.” If they get too many things too fast, their hoarding instinct goes wild, which affects their magic and turns them into, if I understand him right, Godzilla. He knows one dragon who gets birthday presents, but it’s usually stuff he doesn’t really care for.

Who knew it sucked so much to be a winged fire-breathing lizard?

Anyway, Starlight is finishing up a second batch of chips now. We’re going to polish off the tater cake (because as successful as it was, none of us wants it for leftovers tomorrow), munch chips, and enjoy a TV rerun marathon. After a bit of discussion, we decided that Dukes of Hazzard was our favorite. (In all honesty, the ponies vastly prefer Partridge Family, even now that they understand the words, but they’re having mercy on me because it’s my birthday. And I’m having mercy on them and not subjecting them to Kolchak or Barney Miller.)

Tomorrow it’s back to work. We can’t finalize the design for the new saddlebags until we know for sure what we are and aren’t hauling in them, and the engines might not make the trip either. So the only action item left we can do without NASA input is adding two of the Hab’s hydrogen power cells to Rover 2. We’ll tackle that tomorrow. It’ll mean losing the passenger bench, but I think we can still haul our harvests in the remaining space. It just means Fireball will have to ride on top and Starlight inside while the others trot alongside.

After that? I dunno. Hab maintenance, probably. Possibly assist Starlight with more experiments on those funky lava-lamp crystals.

Speaking of, here she comes with the chips. Time for flying cars, cutoff jeans, and a celebration of cringe-worthy borderline-racist hillbilly culture.

Author's Notes:

Yes, most of them have run out of things to do, or nearly so.

The producers of Dukes of Hazzard realized after the first season, "You know, we've got an all-white cast in the South. This is a problem. We need to drop some black characters in here and there, and they can't be comedy characters or else we'll catch hell for it."

This resulted in a few black one-episode characters, usually heavies- like the FBI agent investigating Boss Hogg once, for example- and one occasionally recurring character, the black sheriff of the next county over. (That's right: a black sheriff in Georgia in 1980. Not impossible, but certainly not how I'd bet.) Unfortunately, not only did this character almost never get any dialog, but the only character development we ever get is that he's just as corrupt as Roscoe... but more competent.

And then, of course, there's the thing with the rebel flag on the roof of the car, etc.

Anyway, enough justifying the last line. I need help. I know that at one point I wrote up a description of all the chambers of the Site Epsilon crystal cave... but I can't find it. And I need it to move on with the chapter I was working on today. I assume I posted it somewhere that you all could read it, so I'm hoping someone remembers and can find it for me. Otherwise I'll have to make it up all over again, and I'm sure one of you would find it after I posted that.