Lest we forget, the mighty Thor is also the God of Thunder. He has a natural affinity for volatility. Living in the shadow of a volcano, I fully expected we’d make a pilgrimage up the mountain when he came to visit.
Having arrived just prior to an American feasting day, he settled down to enjoy dinner and ate with gusto. As an honored guest he felt particularly pleased to sit at the head of the table…even enjoying a tryptophane snuggle on the couch with the resident felines afterwards.
Late in the afternoon Thor indicated he might like to take a visit up the mountain. Already aware of his predilection for snow, I planned ahead and took some extra blankets. Ah. You know what they say about good intentions, right? Disaster awaited. Little did I know that Thor had secreted an army of minions within the supplies.
Thank goodness it was a holiday and the roads were virtually empty of tourists. We experienced no delays or unexpected happenings on the drive. We paused long enough for Thor to admire a local waterfall and I noticed his cheeks became flushed, his excitement mounted, and his adrenalin surged as we approached the snow line.
Once we reached the topmost access near the farthest access to the mountain, he was bouncing up and down on the seat like an excited child. The winds approached katabatic strength, howling down from the peaks of the caldera, blowing gusts of glittering snow dust into swirling clouds.
Something about that sound triggered a dormant response in the mighty warrior, a primordial connection to his ancient heritage. The next thing I knew, he’d bolted from the truck. He bounded through the snow drifts in great leaps, his minions trailing out behind him. He headed directly for the impressive double doors of the observatory.
Perhaps they reminded him of the entry to the great halls of Asgard, or his own home, Bilskirnir.
My sentimental assumption that he was homesick was quickly replaced by horrified realization. I did not expect the God of Thunder to attempt to oust the National Park Service and overtake the observatory, at least not on his first visit. Fortunately the only park service personnel on staff were busy finalizing seasonal shutdown and we avoided a confrontation. The limitations of his current form made progressing through the deepening snow, well, complicated. Eventually he went facedown in a deep pocket and had to be retrieved before he smothered. You can imagine how that made him feel…everyone knows about Thor’s cranky disposition.
Though his utter brazenness was dazzling; alas, his efforts were equally sidelined by the defection of his ragtag army which were also left floundering in deep drifts. Thor graciously agreed to return to the heat of the vehicle.
On the return journey from the mountain he was able to shrug off his disappointment, lured by the offer of a new hand-made hammer. A near catastrophe in the smithy might have resulted in terrible injury, were it not for the quick reactions of my son. Thor, having forgotten he is in fact inhabiting a six-inch body made of plastic, stood too near the forge. The intense heat pouring from the blast furnace became uncomfortably warm and disaster was averted by the swift thinking of his five-year-old namesake.
Once Thor dried off, thanked his rescuer, and admired his new traveling hammer, he decided it might be best if he continued on his journey forthwith.
Though sad to see him go, to be honest, hosting a God requires a great deal of effort. Capable of great charm, he is also pampered and temperamental. He was not at all pleased to learned the honorable Ms. Kristi had embarked on a Hawaiian escape (more volcanoes!) during his absence. I suspect she may have her hands full when at last, his journey leads back home. By the way, I was able to keep the truth about his doppelganger, a secret. Good luck with that one when the
spoiled brat Norseman discovers that tidbit.
Follow the link to learn more about Thor’s World Tour and what the man with the big hammer has been doing the last couple of months.
I returned Thor to his cardboard sarcophagus, ready to continue his journey. Now that he’s out of earshot, it’s time to confess past transgressions. Have you ever had a treasured houseguest do unexpected things? Were you the guest who moved in and stayed too long?
You can share, he won’t know…