#i managed to built an arched bridge over water at one point tall enough for a full sized ship to sail through!

[coloursofaparadox]

its digital viking hyperfixation time again

[harrison-abbott]

Travel Poetry - Prague

PRAGUE

We went to Czechia in January, 2017.

After taking the underground into the city

We walked up the sleety steps and into

A broad white shining city, with our breath

Puffing in the air. It’d been snowing for

Days, and as we ventured into the city I kept

Slipping up every few minutes, even though

I wore these clunky boots. We were staying

In a quiet hotel that was found down this

Narrow alleyway leaned over by tall terrace

Housing. … We went exploring, and walked

Over to the Vltava and crossed one of those

Handsome bridges, that were brown coloured

And ornamental in themselves and were

Still as important now as when they were made,

Hundreds of years earlier. To put it in context:

The Charles Bridge (the famous one with the

Arches that you see if you Google Prague images)

Is over 600 years old. And it leads up to the

Proper old town, with the castle that was built

In the 9th Century; and the St Vitus cathedral

With those gothic gnarly black spires, which,

Incidentally, took around 600 years of

Construction to be erected in what you saw now.

We walked up the hill to the castle and of course

It was all merry pretty tourist land these days,

With the rainbow coloured housing and so on,

But you still had a sense of history: that this

Was a key city of central Europe, that you were

Scaling up wintry slopes that were laden with lore.

We went into a museum, along the way, that

Was about medieval torture. It wasn’t my idea

To go; because I’m usually queasy about such

Historical topics. But, I found myself in there

Anyway. And, it was even queasier than I’d

Expected. So – it was a series of replicas of

Medieval weapons and apparatus, that they used

To kill people with, a few centuries back, who

Were suspected of witchcraft. And, after

Browsing around the museum floors for a while,

I kinda hoped that some of them were exaggerated

For tourist entertainment: hoped that they

Weren’t real depictions of what they used to do

To people. One example was of a tall wooden

Spike, about as big as a man: that they used to

Impale the person on, from which they would

Then leave them there on the street, to die.

Another one was a huge saw that they would use

To cut from a person’s groin, up to their head,

With them hanging upside down, and they would

Keep them alive long enough so that it was

As much a painful exist as possible. Another was

This metal chamber which had spikes in it,

Which weren’t long enough to kill you instantly,

And they would shut people inside it and lock

The doors, and never let them out. Yes: all of

It made me disturbed. I wondered whether the

Torturors even believed that the people they

Were killing were proper witches/devils, or

Whether they simply enjoyed doing such macabre

Things, with sadistic relish … Maybe a bit of

Both. … Anyway, we went up to the top of the

Hill, and then we took the cable train down the

Side of the hill, wherein, as we descended we

Could see through the windows the dotted

Bulbous star scape of Prague, with a snug

Clattering of the carriage as it trundled down

The tracks. When we alighted at the bottom

It was night time, in a purply closeness and

Real gaudy cold, now. We took one of the other

Bridges across the Vltava. And, looking down,

There were ducks moseying in the water.

Even though it was night time and well below

Zero, and despite there being icicles that clung

From the bridge, and snow all around, the ducks

Were just sitting there in the water, calmly, waiting,

Perhaps, for daylight. It made me wonder how

They managed to survive at all. Did they stay

There all night? Amazing. … We went back to

The hotel. My girl went to take a nap. And,

I did some reading on the desk nearby. I’d

Taken a Raymond Carver book (called Elephant)

With me on the holiday, a collection of short

Stories. They were inspiring and they made

Me want to write short stories too. At this

Point in my life I hadn’t published fiction before.

I was still in my early 20s and I’d had poems

Published in the past, but no stories.

So, Carver inspired me to start composing

My own little tales, which I penned then,

In those three nights in Prague, Czechia.

One of them was influenced by a real life

Incident which happened to me when I was

Way younger, back home in Edinburgh. Very

Close to where I live. It was when I was assaulted

By a man, when I was a teenager. It was quite

A surreal, brutal moment. When this man

Thundered out of his house and ran up

To me and punched me in the face and then

Pulled my hair. I suppose you could call it

Dark suburbia. Or, better, just a thuggish assault

From a man who must’ve been at least 40,

Overweight, incredibly stupid, goonish: who

Was so angry with his life, and so weak with his

Ego, that he had to go and attack a boy like

That on a random Friday morning.

That’s a whole other tale. But, what got me

Thinking about it again, was that, just before

I had come to Prague, I had been home in

Edinburgh to visit my mother’s home. And, as

I was out walking, on Boxing Day, I had passed

This man’s house: and seen him again.

He was drinking a beer in his living room

And I could see him through the window.

And he made especial effort to glare at me

From behind the glass, in an oafish, orc-like

Manner. And, of course, the man was even older

At this point: and he was still as immature and

Aggressive as that. The assault had enraged

Me to no end … But, when I was in Czechia,

Sitting at this desk, with a pen and journal

In front of me: I thought I would just write

A story about it, as a way of getting revenge

On this horrible man, in an artistic manner.

So I wrote a story about it / about what happened.

And I fictionalised it a little bit. But, the basic

Content: the violent premise of the tale,

Was true, and actually happened.

And then when I got back to Scotland,

After leaving the Czech Republic, I typed

Up the story I’d handwritten in the journal.

And then I sent it off to a publisher. And it

Got published. And, so, suddenly I was a

Published fiction writer as well. This was exactly

The type of vindication that I’d been after.

Being a published writer was way cooler

Than anything that ugly, seething man had

Ever accomplished. And it made me feel

Way better about his vicious attack on me.

Fuck him. Ha. … But, yeah: I have halcyon

Memories of Prague, as a whole. And that

Little hotel room where I penned those stories.

There was a 24 hour shop just outside where

I would go at night, and buy cigarettes

And obscure cans of beer, and I would

Smoke outside in the snowy lane. The snow

Would glow with an illumination in the

Spooky way that snow is able to do, in the dark.

And it got super cold in the a.m. hours.

At one point it was –17°C. But, I’ve always

Liked the cold. And, I loved the kaleidoscopic

Colours of the shop’s lights behind me.

Again: I doubt I will ever go back to Prague.

Because it was such a magical trip, and I

Doubt whether I could top it if I returned.

But I would certainly recommend it to

Anybody else who was thinking of going.

[jeanjauthor]

(Made up bit heavily inspired by bit with much much better women’s rights) In England late mediveal or early renaissance time, how would I put a bridge on a very large and wide river that large ships like cogs and big carraks can get under? I’d like to keep to that time period as closely as possible (but with different women’s rights) but I realised I need big carraks and cogs to go up a river I need many bridges on. Would swing bridges do? What would those be made of in those times? Stone?Wood?

eGood to know! Presuming a world without magic...if it's late medieval / early renaissance, just use drawbridges.

Understand that your boats will have to be smaller than most seagoing vessels. However,that doesn't mean they cannot be quite useful, and it doesn't mean they cannot be sailboats; they can! They just need to be more slender and shorter--not just to navigate between the central support pillars for said drawbridges, but also simply to navigate the twists and turns of any river.

This particular scene from the BBC's Edwardian Farm series has an example of just such a boat: https://youtu.be/obIWqJlxniY?t=1030 You should watch it, even though they're actually just discussing using quicklime to neutralize the acidity of the local soils, and how they're importing coal for use in burning in the lime kilns.

The most important feature of the scene for our discussion is how it shows the size of cargo ship that would sail up a slow, calm river. The various boats that sailed up and down the Yangtze River, the Nile, Hudson River, the Mississippi, the gazillion waterways of the Amazon and more, all of these had a lot of river-based commerce. Even the canals of Angkor Wat had a great deal of commerce via boat.

In some cases, such as at Angkor Wat, they would have had stevedores (dockworkers) standing by at bridge causeways that boats couldn't cross. These workers would literally offload cargo from one canal boat, carry it a few yards across the street to the next canal's boat, load it there, and send it on its way along a different canal system. (You'd have to see how the roads and canals at Angkor Wat were built to understand this system.) In other locations, they would have boat-pontoons serving as a floating bridge that could be unlashed and moved out of the way so that cargo ships could cross, and there would often be regular times for these switchups to occur.

But if you're dealing with late medieval / renaissance levels of ingenuity, then winches, gears, capistans, etc, would all be a part of their canal system, with broad, stoutly made drawbridges being drawn up and lowered down at regular points in the day.

Some of these pulley systems could be animal-powered (horse, mule, oxen, whatever), or it could be a wheel that a man would walk along, kind of like a hamster wheel, such as the kind found here: https://youtu.be/s46qP1l39V8?t=628 Though it's a long zoom in, you can see toward the end there are actual humans inside thos wheels, walking slowly to raise and lower whatever needs to get up to the building site. A drawbridge system would be no different.

You can also use folding masts. Since you're not dealing with a specific real-world place-and-time, you can borrow from other eras and traditions, including ancient historical methods, such as the bipod mast: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bipod_mast These were used as far back as the 3rd millenium BCE to sail up and down the Nile...which admittedly didn't have bridges to sail under, but the stability of the bipod mast made it easy to lay it down without overbalancing the ship.

With some clever hinges and pulleys and gears, a Renaissance shipmaster could make a system that would allow the sails to be quickly brought down...though to maintain forward motion when going upstream, they'd probably have to pay a lining service a fee to line the ship upstream. Here's an example of how to line a canoe upstream along a river from Far North Bushcraft And Survival: https://youtu.be/ZQ7940-M5mM

This is literally the same system used to maneuver canal barges upstream (and down!), powered by horsepower, literal horses, donkeys, mules, oxen, etc. This particular scene from the Victorian Farm series shows one such canal barge being used to deliver a load of coal, as they would've done in the Victorian era: https://youtu.be/Ccjyt7BQEVU?t=1374 In the scene, they talk about how it's "...a fly boat, going day and night; they change out the horses..." to indicate that these were in constant use. You can see how there's a path built under the bridge for the horse to walk along.

The barge would be manned and steered in most cases, since that's easier than doing it manually by the two-line method, but they'd still probably have two lines on the boat in most instances, in case the helmsman fell asleep, or there was a change in the current, etc. There would also be strict "lanes" for upstream versus downstream traffic, ideally with walkways on each side so as to keep the lines from tangling--this would be in use in areas with really flat slow/sluggish water, not enough room to use galley oars, not enough room to set sails, yet you still want your cargo to head downstream at more than a snail's pace with the natural current (ideal for big cities).

Small barges could also be poled like the gondolae of Venice, but again, that's small barges, since there's only so much effort poling can manage before it becomes nigh impossible not only to get up to speed, but also to slow down to make a turn, to stop, etc. So consider if your river is slow, if it's a series of canals, how many bridges there are, what sort of workforce there might be for loading & unloading, and for portaging.

To portage is to go around an obstacle that a boat (of whatever size) cannot safely manage. The most famous portages were done by the voyageurs of the fur trade in Canada, where they'd come upon a stretch of rapids too dangerous to traverse or have to leave the river they're on to go in the direction they need to get to the next river or lake system, etc. At that point, the fur trappers/canoers would get out, offload their cargo, and carry it and their canoes--sometimes for miles!--to the next navigable stretch of water...and most cases they'd have to set up camp when they got there, then go back for everything that got left behind, and haul all of that to the new spot.

In many cases in the wilderness, they'd leave 1-2 behind to guard said provisions, etc, either at the offloading site or the final destination site. But if you're dealing with a civilized/settled area, they wouldn't necessarily have to do that, but might instead arrange passage with wagoners / caravaners, the people who got paid to transport river-shipped goods between two points overland.

There are also the possibilities for canal locks (the ancient Romans had a precursor to the system we know of today) as well, but it honestly depends on how much that region has decided to put in the effort to dig and construct and manage them. If it's wealthy, has a history of innovation, and/or relies heavily upon river commerce, then it's quite possible. But most likely, drawbridges and folding masts are going to be ideal.

Just remember that those ships and masts are not going to be designed to withstand open-ocean travel or hurricane force winds, nor to carry hundreds of tons. River ships are not going to be the same as ocean or sea going vessels. For example:

"During the time of King Philip II's reign (1556-98), the Spanish galleon increased in size and capacity. For example, while the earlier galleons had capacities for 120 toneladas (Spanish tons), the post-1560 galleons tended to cross thresholds of 330 toneladas." (https://www.realmofhistory.com/2019/06/07/galleon-spanish-warship-facts/ )

Or: "...a typical American barge measures 195 by 35 feet (59.4 m × 10.7 m), and can carry up to about 1,500 short tons (1,400 t) of cargo." (from the entry on Barges, Wikipedia)

These might seem like good resources, but those galleons are oceanic vessels far too large and/or deeply drafted for river navigation, and those barges are modern ones meant for the lower Mississippi River. The latter are also powered by engines, not by wind, oar, or musclepower (animals or humans lining the boat along the riverbank).

Unless your river is huge--at which point ferries will be your ideal method of crossing, rather than bridges--your river-running ships will be small, sleek, relatively shallow drafted, will most likely have collapsing sails, oars for windless days, ropes for lining (even if their own crew has to do it), so on and so forth.

...You can still have bridges without drawbridges, if your river runs through a canyon deep enough that the bridge will clear the masts naturally, or your engineers invest in long, long, long ramps leading up to and over the central arch spanning the deepest part of the river...and invest in lots of riprap (rocks specifically placed for lining the banks of the river to prevent erosion, etc). Unfortunately, most rivers flowing through canyons flow too fast and hard to make good safe transportation routes...and really tall bridges exhaust humans and animals alike in passing over them, so...it's not very likely.

One last consideration: the river itself. Here is a snippet of a video I took when I had the opportunity to go on a Rhein River Cruise (Viking Cruiseline). The cruisehip is docked. It is not moving.

The Rhein really does flow this fast (up near Switzerland, iirc, but all throughout the trip as well), and it only slowed down somewhat at certain points. The banks in the city zones (and even much of the countryside) are lined with riprap (stones fitted and cemented into place to control the river flow and prevent erosion), and yes, there were a few canal locks along the route. A lot of that riprap was laid in earlier centuries, some of it late renaissance (and much of it repaired since then).

We were warned that if there was a lot of rain during our trip (this trip took place in May) causing a lot of runoff to flow into the river, there was a bridge downstream (near the Netherlands) where we might actually have to disembark from this ship literally cross the street for that bridge, and get onto another cruise ship on the downstream side of the bridge. Why? Because if the river level rose too much, this ship would not be able to cross under that bridge.

Now, the ship's top deck was disassembled to pass under other bridges. It literally had awnings and roofs on hinges that could be lowered to as flat as possible...and yet there was still a bridge they knew they couldn't pass under if the river level rose too high. Even with modern tech, etc, there will be obstacles like this.

So consider that for your rivers and your commerce. In spring and autumn, the water might run too high, perhaps even too wild, for safe & easy river travel. Portaging might be the answer. Or your characters might be crossing over the bridge which has an angry river crew arguing with the city guard about why they can't take their ship under the bridge (because it could damage the bridge, it's the wrong season, etc).

...You can also have droughts (oftentimes in high summer) which could cause the river to become too shallow for boats to pass in certain sections, or they'll have to lighten their cargo to avoid getting mired in the mud, etc.

And if your story is set in a region with cold winters, snow, ice, etc...the river might freeze. This poses a whole host of transportation problems, but then transport wasn't often done in the depths of winter, save maybe for foods brought from the storage barns of local farms. If the rivers don't freeze over, water travel is still possible, though hypothermia is still a danger.

If they freeze only a little bit, still possible...but once the ice gets thick along the edges, it becomes dangerous to try to "cut" through the ice with a boat of any size. This can include ice that is too thick to get the boat close enough to shore to exchange cargo and/or passengers, but also the possibility of ice actually damaging a ship's hull.

And of course merely walking on the ice is sheer danger, unless you know exactly what to look for, how deep it needs to be, etc, to be crossed safely--the idyllic picture of the Dutch ice skating along their canals doesn't cover the fact that many people fell through the ice because they hit a stretch that was too thin to support their weight. Certainly history doesn't tell us exactly how many perished, though logic assures us that many surely did--either idiots who didn't check the ice depth, or who were young and recklessly brave enough to be foolhardy, an unexpected warming of the water coming downstream thinning out the ice in a specific spot in the channel, etc, etc, etc.

River boat crews would be aware of such potential dangers, and would not want to travel in icy conditions if it was at all avoidable. Which brings us to living on a riverboat, and how to keep warm in winter when the hull is literally in constant contact with icy cold water...but that's another discussion entirely. If the canals are in constant use, the water "might not" freeze over because it'd be constantly disturbed by the passage of all those boats...but it also could, especially if a bad winter storm shut down travel for a few days.

Mostly, river boats would be lifted out of the water if at all possible before the river iced over (which the locals would know about). Why? Because ice expands, and it would expand horizontally into those hulls, cracking them. Water and ice are incredibly powerful forces that we often underestimate. This means that winter is the time when boats would be brought ashore, tipped onto their sides, the hulls scraped free of river mussels and barnacles and whatnot, sections would be repaired, the hulls re-tarred, and other maintenance issues tended to.

If river commerce slows or stops in the winter due to ice issues, then you'll have wagons and/or sleighs, etc, bringing in the goods...but again, your horses or other draft animals will have a harder time working in cold weather. Your cities will therefore want most of their goods brought into the city's storehouses before winter falls, if it's an area with harsh winters.

If they're just rainy and wet and miserable for the most part (*cough* the greater Seattle region (*cough*)...then flooding will be your biggest concern. If it's a region with seasonal droughts & monsoons...you could have a whole host of problems, but you'd also probably want retention ponds and lakes to help keep the river flowing--fill them up in the stormy season and let out some of that water in the dry season to keep the river at a hopefully passable depth.

Bridges (and drawbridges), boats, and rivers are all part and parcel with the equation.

One more thing, if your local region is building a bridge in the story (a common occurrence in the renaissance in many towns), it doesn't have to be a part of the story directly, but can be mentioned second-hand, like one of your characters can say, "avoid the Baker's Bridge--remember, they're doing repairwork on it."

If this is a thing you want to toss into the story (it makes your town feel alive, a growing and changing thing, without having to go into exhaustive detail), then remember that the architects will have hopefully taken all the shipping and transportation needs into account...but that section of the river or canal will be blocked by scaffolding, requiring everyone to portage around it. If it is a river split in two by an island, or it's a canal shooting off from or paralleling the main river, you'll still be able to have commerce up and down the river, but it will cause that river travel to be thicker and more prone to clogs, blockages, accidents, arguments, etc.

These are little details you can put into your story to give your world more depth without having to go into exhaustive detail.

Good luck, and I hope at least some of that helped!

[woollyslisterblog]

1834 August Tuesday 5th

heaven save us from AL on a fact finding mission. she has her parasol out again and is measuring. She seems to have spent most of the day discussing land farming management with the coachman leaving AW to her cold fowl. Yes, she discusses horse poo prices.

no kiss not at all with her Ann better this morning – preparing for cousin- breakfast at 8:30 -agree about carriage 15/. (everything bonne main and all compris) for the whole of the day - off at 10:20 Anne and I (and took George) in one horse calèche George and driver sitting in the front - in 1/4 hour at and crossed the handsome suspension bridge over the Drac - finished only six years ago - the wood bad - taking it up and laying it down fresh - kept close along the track (north) till after its junction with Isère - just there two boats - three pair of oxen to each, the animals one man to each pair, hauling in the midst of the water, above their middles in the deepest part, towards Grenoble –

at 11:05 turn left and about 10 minutes at the village of Sassenage- drive up the hill towards the quarries - very steep and bad got out at 11:25 and left the carriage waiting – Ann and I walked forwards - she tired an left her at 11:52 while I went to the top of the hill or monticule a little above the quarries for the sake of the view- - Miss Walker’s bowels not yet well - walked quickish considering the steep ascent and the stony road and great heat – (thought fine air latterly on the high ground) and in 1/4 hour at 12:02 at the top of the hill - very fine panoramic view of the junction of the Drac and Isère and of the latter almost to Voreppe, and a considerable length of the former - pity the clouds hid in great measure the great height of the mountain range to the eastward - the plain or valley of Grenoble Graissivandau very rich and beautiful - enjoyed the view for five minutes then down again to Ann at 1:10 –

She with one stone for a seat and another for a table ate her cold fowl and took her malaga légèrement trempe de l’eau in 20 minutes - we were soon back where we left the carriage, went down the bad road in it, and alighted at the hotel des Cuves at Sassenage at 1:20 - the landlord went with us as guide - this little expedition took us from 1:23 to 2:28 between then we went considerably above the cuves in the wood to where our guide the proprietor is making a zigzag walk and going to erect a pavilion from a nice point of view - he had bought the property 15 days ago, 400 toises of rock and wood for 370 francs - we had a steepish ascent - along with the high wall of rock (left) very pretty valley-cleft with a pretty cascade and stream utilisé for a mill – passed an insignificant hole or recess in the rock yellow hoary compact limestone then a few yards higher up on the cuve a handsome cavern mouth with two streams meeting in and forming in it a very pretty cascade - the stream to the left on entering runs along the channel we could have gone up for a long and unknown length of way had we chose and had there not been rather too much water – (no depth, but not like getting wet shod) - the man lighted his candle, but we declined wading - another recess in the rock a little higher up - the man talked of making a pavilion here too - said he would spoil the place – advised merely a bench and rustic table - from the intended site of the pavilion above looked over a pretty green vineyard on the opposite little high plain backed wood and the out-peeping old tower part masonry part rock of the ancient Chateau de Sassenage - was straight with this little propriété, and joked to Anne about buying it –

Sassenage a very good village - the famous cheese is made at the chalets on the pastures on the rocks above - can buy here (said our Grenoble landlord last night) at ./75 what 3 francs a lb in London - off on our return from Sassenage at 5:35 - drove close under the high almost perpendicular rocks - at 3 passed by (left) very rich land vines on frames and under them fine tall hemp - 1200 toises of this land that (said our intelligent cocher, the owner of the carriage and horse - keeps 12 horses) lets for 100 francs a year - at 3:05 alight at the Barmes rock de Fontaine, a village near - the carriage met us at the other end of our walk, along the wide double avenued road close under the barmes and perpendicular wall of rock 2 or 300 foot high? A pity the trees of our avenue to near, broke the rock and spoilt the view - elms poplars and willows - one of the poplars broken off about a yard from the bottom (blown down?) quite sound - measured from the ground to where the top was cut off, at about 3 inches diameter, 28 of my parasol's long ie about 28 yards or 84 feet! Was perhaps about near 2 foot diameter at the surface of the ground –

to buy the ground (line six from the bottom of the last page) let at 100/ one must pay 2000 francs per stèré and 1 stèré (as they pronounced it) = 900 toises carrés - this rich ground produces several crops of hemp for year after year de suite, but rests (is fallow, sometimes or grows wheat) and produces three crops in a year beet and other things - the coarse reedy grass we passed sometime afterwards (the coarse product of wet uncultivated land) called la laiche or perhaps better la banche required no manure, no care, is merely and made into percés (little round stacks or piplings with poles run through the middle and sticking out the top) and sells for 80 francs the stèrè for manure for the vines and (ingrais pour les vignes) is put about the young souches or suckers in much if the weather be fine enough –

Monsieur Perrier (a cotton manufacturer and calico printer in the Chateau of Vezille - 800 people employed but - lately only a filature of cotton there) the richest propriétaire here - had from 2 or 3000 stèrés - lately dead - his son married a Madamoiselle the Lafayette petite fille to the general - the farm on which grew the coarse reedy grass noticed consists of about 2000 stérés-

back at the pont de fer suspension bridge at 3:35 - the river track and the bridge 410 feet long by 20 feet 8 inches wide - the handsome straight stone pyramidal pillars at each end and 45 feet high from the surface of the bridge and the bridge about 14 feet above the present level of the water which is now 3 feet deep in the deepest part under the bridge – (said the workmen on the bridge laying down new timbers) - some distance on the right (east) side the Drac before getting in the great high road to la Croix haute, and shockingly we were jolted - it made Ann sick and poorly -our cocher said engrais was very dear - people let the engrais of their horses per annum the farmer taking it finding and bringing the straw - the dung of horse (on these terms averages not too dear) 25/. per annum – our cocher for his 12 horses has 300/. a year - the richest part of Dauphiné therefore called the rognon de Dauphiné is about 3 leagues du pays from here,

at and about Voiron famous for its cloth from 2:52 6 francs l’anne - on getting into the route royale our cocher said it rose 6 liens feu pied i.e. 1/2 an inch per foot - called La course from Grenoble a to Claix - it is a fine double avenue chiefly of elms, large leaved maple or small leaved sycamores, poplars - since the pont de Claix straight before us from the moment of getting into the great road - the pont is about the same level as the Chateau or Bastile here - a great deal of the land this way reclaimed from the devastating Drac only 8 or 10 years ago and much reclaiming now - the water is drained off into reservoirs, and suffered to deposit it sediment (like our road sand at home) which is spread thick over, the gravelly ground that is theirs made into good land - this good road to Claix is new and is to go direct to Marseille - but will not be finished for a few years - the road by Gap is 10 postes nearer than by Valence and this new road will be 10 poste, nearer than by Gap – they are working too at the road to Bourg d’ Oisans meaning to make a good carriage road this way to Briançau- good now to Bourg d’Oisans - but not beyond there – Our driver tried it 2 1/2 months ago - had the carriage to take in pieces to pass and so much damage done would not engage to go that way again –

36,000 ârmes in Grenoble - principle trade gauterie, but not so celebrated for it as formally - Claix a good little village - new - only two houses here 10 years ago - the valley (called Les isles) beyond the bridge not in cultivation till 30 years ago - ascend the hill (would be 5 or 10 minutes walking) and at the Pont de Claix there, or down the hill a minute or two beyond it, chez Fournier, restaurat[io]n, at 4:40 – Ann so sick and tired and afraid of flies in the house would not get out of the carriage - I went to see the bridge then went back and persuaded her to go - fine bold arch, from rock to rock, - not of very large stone and built with cement mortar, so did not strike me as being Roman architecture, though they say it is - the outside line (particularly the northern) of the arch is not quite straight - as if the arch might have been built from each end and made to join in the middle –

off back again at 5:15 and alighted at home at 6:20 Hay sells at 5/+ and some sols the quintalordinaire i.e. 50 kilos (the quintal métrique = 100 kilos or (kilogrammes of which 1 equals 2 lbs) - the quintal used to be from 2/50 to 3/ or 4/. wheat should sell 6/. the bushel, to pay for the farmer it now sells for only 4/50 - so bread cheaper than hay and give the horses sold[ie]rs bread - could perhaps 1/3 or 2/3 rye with the wheat = a horse has sometimes 6 lbs a day of this - can only go in a carriage about or not quite 1/2 way up to the Chateau or Bastille - dinner 6:30 to 7:45 - dawdling with Miss W[alker] her bowels grumbling and she wanted petting - from 9:45 to 11:45 wrote out today – very fine day F69° at 11:50 PM

[buttersbots]

Ficlet: Fathers’ Day

:0 Day late Fathers’ Day short.

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“You doing alright?” Two asked in a low voice, putting her hand on Nos’s elbow.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine. Just came out to enjoy a bit of quiet,” the Energy Vampire smiled. They were hovering on the patio outside the Earthclasses’ living room, looking out at the city lights sparkling off the lake. Small boats slipped over the glassy surface, emanating distant music and laughter.

Wall.E and One had built their house on the same spot that the truck once stood, perched at the top of a fortified bridge extending over the water. It was made with a similar style to the towering residential buildings on the shore, with pale stucco walls, red tile roofs, and high, arched windows. The inside was decorated with the best of Wall.E’s collection, flowers growing out of anything that could hold dirt, with even more plant life spilling out of hanging planters. Somehow, as eclectic as it was, the place could never be called “messy.” The Earthclasses managed to maintain enough order to host parties such as the one currently underway, a celebration of the third Sunday of June, Fathers’ Day. The patio where Nos and Two stood was floored with tiles made to look like wood, a glass table with six chairs to one side and a couple overstuffed sofas under an awning to the other, fairy lights illuminating the whole area from above. The coffee table between the sofas was littered with glasses and plates from the human guests who had been out to watch the sunset, some detritus even sitting on the edges of planters filled with colorful succulents.

“You don’t always have to follow me when I disappear at parties, you know. I’d rather you catch up with your friends than sit alone with me.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that I might be disappearing as well?” Two chuckled, leaning against his side. “It always gets a little crazy after Mary’s third glass of wine, anyway.”

Nos gave a short hiss of amusement, putting his arm around her shoulders. “I thought that was half the fun of having parties with humans!”

“I mean, sure, but some of the ‘bots from the Axiom get a little too into it. You should’ve seen the look on poor Michael’s face when Mary started singing and L-T let her use them as a microphone!”

“Oh, is that why everyone went inside?” Nos smirked.

“No, no, I think they started opening presents. That’s actually part of why I came out here... I figured it was a good time to slip away without anyone noticing.”

“Well, shouldn’t at least one of us be there to see Wall.E open the gift we got him?”

“Eh,” Two shrugged, “we’ll get a thank you note either way. I was thinking we might go home soon, anyway... I’m beat.”

Nos-4-a2 hummed and squeezed her side, his hand trailing down to the front of her containment chamber. “You are feeling a bit low. We need to be more careful. It’s not good for your energy to fluctuate now that we have a third party to consider.”

Two smiled and laced her fingers with his. She had only been pregnant for a month and hadn’t started to show it yet, but things were already changing. The nanobots were hard at work processing information and starting to build components; she wasn’t used to how fast it sapped her energy. “The baby’s probably just a speck at this point... I don’t know how it’s managing to drain me like this!”

Nos grinned and kissed the top of Two’s head. “We must have a little vampire on our hands.”

Two’s eyeforms swelled. “Oh wow, I never thought of that...”

“Well, it would make sense. You only became pregnant after you turned.”

“Wow...” Two whispered again, “I wonder if Patrick’s thought of that.”

“Something tells me he would have talked to us about it by now if he had. The man’s a fanatic... I’m sure he’d have some input about it if we asked him at your next check-up, though.”

Two grumbled and pressed her head into Nos’s chest. “I can practically hear the excitement in his voice now. Honestly... just thinking about his high energy is exhausting.”

“Well, we don’t need to worry about that now. Let’s enjoy the view for a bit, just until they’re done with presents. We can say goodbye to everyone after that, and then I’ll carry you home.”

“Really?” Two beamed.

“Of course,” Nos smiled back, “we can’t have you exerting yourself too much! You always make it a race, and I don’t think high speed chases are good for the baby’s development.”

“I only make it a race because you constantly drag behind,” Two scoffed.

“Oh, is that so?” the tall robot drawled, “Then maybe it would be faster to fly yourself home after all!”

“No! I mean ‒ I guess I can put up with it for now.”

Nos laughed and rolled his optic, leaning forward against the railing and rubbing the dip in Two’s side. It was truly a spectacular view, and the cool breeze rolling off the water made the scene all the nicer. Two relaxed against him and watched the patterns in the water, the waves far below lapping steadily towards the shore. Sometimes it moved as the wake of a boat or the ripples from a fish breaching the surface, but it still seemed regular, mathematical. Two had to catch herself to stop from drifting off, so comfortable under her husband’s touch, surrounded by the muffled sound of celebration and chattering behind them and distant music from passing boats. She fantasized about the soft bed waiting for them at home, cuddling into Nos-4-a2’s metal and sleeping the night away. Two actually started to doze off when one of the french doors that led to the patio opened wide, bursting with the sound of the party.

“Oh! Dad, I found him!”

Nos and Two looked back to greet Willow, who floated over the threshold with her father making his way through the crowd behind her. Some people watched Wall.E curiously, but most were so invested in their current conversations that they just squeezed out of the way to let him through. He had to turn sideways and shuffle on his treads to make it past some of the tighter spots, but he eventually made it through the door and out to the patio.

“Thanks, Willow. Could you tell Momma we need her out here?”

Willow nodded and darted off, hovering over the crowd to find One.

“Sorry, were you looking for me? I didn’t mean to be hard to find,” Nos turned fully away from the railing to face Wall.E. The short compactor sported a fresh coat of yellow paint and a vividly patterned bowtie around his neck, gifts from his wife and daughter respectively.

“No, it’s fine! Better that we’re outside,” Wall.E looked back over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being listened to, dropping his voice, “We know you haven’t told everybody you’re expecting yet, but we got you something for Fathers’ Day.”

“What? You really didn’t have to, we ‒ we hardly told you a week ago! How’d you have the time? Besides, I’m not a father yet,” Nos-4-a2 stammered.

Wall.E’s optics lifted, the covers of his lenses conveying a grin. “Then happy ‘Almost-a-Father’s Day.’ Come sit down, nobody will be able to see us over here...”

Nos and Two followed Wall.E to the sofas, taking seats across from him. One came outside almost immediately after with a package in her hands, Willow following and making sure the door shut behind them.

“Oh, good! I was worried you’d left,” One smiled.

“Without saying goodbye? Come on,” Two laughed, shaking her head.

“I’ve been distracted! But it doesn’t matter. Here,” she handed the package to Nos before hovering back to lean on the sofa, absentmindedly taking Wall.E’s hand while Willow bounced onto the cushion next to her dad.

“This is really too kind. What could you possibly have gotten me though?”

“The point is to open it and find out,” Willow snickered.

Nos smirked, “All right, smart aleck.”

The package didn’t have a bow, simply wrapped in blue and white striped paper. Nos used his talons to tear it away and reveal a book with hard-backed binding in a featureless, deep green. The book was light and wider than it was tall, a silk ribbon lining the spine.

“It’s beautiful,” Two murmured, leaning over Nos’s side.

“Open it up!” One gestured, giddy.

Nos lifted the cover, still not sure what to expect, and found it was a scrapbook entirely empty besides a single, official looking image of white coding on a black backdrop with a date stamp along the bottom from the previous month. The Energy Vampire’s expressive optic opened as wide as it could. Under the picture was a handwritten caption: “Baby’s first line of code.”

His voice was hardly louder than a whisper. “Is this...?”

“It’s a baby book,” Wall.E answered.

With Nos and Two still staring, awestruck, One continued, “I visited Patrick at work the day after you told us the news. When I asked him if he could give us anything we could put into a baby book for you, he printed this off right away and told me it was the first sign he had that Two was pregnant. What do you think?”

Nos-4-a2’s smile stretched all the way across his face, his silver fangs glittering under the fairy lights. “I... this is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received... thank you!”

Two nodded vigorously, covering the base of her visor in her hands, keeping herself from speaking in case she started to cry.

“Oh, I’m so glad you like it!” One chirped.

“Of course,” Nos traced the jumble of characters on the paper with the pad of his finger, trying to hide the fact that he had oil building in his optic.

“We know your baby isn’t here yet, but that doesn’t make them any less real. If you ever need anything, advice, planning, whatever you can think of, we hope you’ll come to us,” Wall.E nodded.

Nos could only bring himself to say “thank you” again, lacing his arm around Two and hugging her to his side. One, unable to contain herself at having elicited an emotional response from Nos-4-a2, hovered forward to hug him as well.

“Happy Fathers’ Day, Nos!”

Obviously, I would have preferred to post this yesterday, but I was distracted at a huge Fathers’ Day celebration with my own clan! I probably could have had it done if I had just written what I had originally planned, a super short story where Two woke Nos up with a fancy power cell and a kiss for Nos’s “first” Fathers’ Day after she’s pregnant, but I’m trying to expand my scenery a little. I don’t know if it’s as obvious to you guys as it is to me, but a LOT of my stories happen while the characters are either waking up or getting into bed. I guess one of my greatest fantasies is just being cozy... Headcanon: The rogue robots, the Ratzenbergers (John, Mary, and their immediate families), the Earthclasses, and the Energy Vampires are all basically one big family who gets together for every little occasion. Others, including but not limited to the McCreas and the Henrys, are considered part of the extended family and always make it to at least one gathering a year, usually Christmas. Also, for the Earthclasses’ house, I decided to create a description based on this shot. I know it shows the truck on the end of the bridge, but this is already a crossover AU... so I don’t feel too bad twisting the canon a little. Wall.E and One are grown adults with a growing family who need a roomy house! They keep all the knick-knacks they couldn’t fit into the decor in a storage unit and the truck itself is kept as a historical monument in a local museum.