Learning Curve II

by Aouda Fogg

Disclaimer: Not mine. <sigh> Alliance's. <sigh> No infringement or violation intended.

Author's Notes: My first sequel <wg> Whoohoo :) Thank you to everyone on Serge for the encouragement . . . I hadn't intended to write a sequel, so this is their fault <wg>

Story Notes: Still no smut . . . I think Ray was a bit disappointed.
May 18, 2002

This story is a sequel to: Learning Curve


I have learned a great deal over the last 17 months.

Classic cars do have distinct personalities.

The weight rating of a standard, military cot is surprisingly low. The corollary of this is that standard, military cots are harder to repair than one might think.

Seeing one's partner drive a sled team successfully for the first time is a glorious feeling.

A movie isn't a movie without popcorn.

There are six Chinese restaurants in the Territories.

The back flap of a pair of long johns is more than just a convenience.

Modern mythology is alive and well in the hands of George Lucas.

Sleeping past 8 a.m. occasionally is not a crime.

Despite appearances, a dogsled does not "corner on rails."

When Americans ask, "what is the ref thinking?" it is most often a rhetorical question.

Wolves make surprisingly strict chaperones.

Turtles really will eat pizza.

Always keep a darning kit near you; you never know when you might need to repair wooly socks.

There are times when speaking Cantonese, German, and perhaps a bit of Inuit, has more in common with the mating call of the caribou than I ever would have thought possible.

Marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate are absolute camping essentials.

Leaving the dishes is liberating.

I now have incontrovertible proof that humans can indeed be heat sinks.

Full disclosure of all of pountine's ingredients is always wise.

Learning to share a bathroom is not as difficult as I had feared. In fact, barracks notwithstanding, standing next to someone while they complete their daily ablutions can be quite wonderful.

The Coyote and Roadrunner are more amusing than I had remembered.

There is always time for a snowball fight.

Borax works best for removing grease from under one's fingernails.

When properly motivated, two grown men can fit in a single sleeping bag.

For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, there are times when risking splinters is worth it.

No matter how well you know your home, seeing it through the eyes of a newcomer makes everything fresh and new.

Buying dill pickle relish instead of sweet pickle relish is a punishable offense under the Geneva Condiment Convention of 1953.

Although I was not aware of it, the Geneva Condiment Convention of 1953 was attended by the likes of Mr. Peanut, Oscar Meyer, and the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Apparently it was quite an event.

Teaching someone to curl can be quite . . . stimulating.

Obtaining tickets to the opening night of a new Star Wars movie is romantic.

There is, in fact, not a Towel Police Force checking to make sure each towel is properly folded and neatly stacked.

The consumption of a Twinkie can be a lascivious activity.

Nicknames are sometimes endearments in disguise.

Being ill is never pleasant, but having someone cook you soup and make sure the blanket covers your toes makes it vastly more bearable.

Easter egg hunts are not just for children.

Easter egg dye comes off in the snow.

White Easter eggs are difficult to find against white snow.

Love doesn't hurt.

Dreams can come true.


End Learning Curve II by Aouda Fogg: aoudafogg@yahoo.com

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