Hasta La Vista, 2006

The year is drawing to a close, and what better way to end it than with a bout of the stomach flu?

I swear it was the new "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" movie that made me sick. (Is it just me, or does Willy Wonka look like Michael Jackson in that one?) I felt fine until about ten minutes into the movie, then started feeling off-color. Less than an hour after the film ended, something unpleasant happened and the next thing I know, I've been slapped into bed with orders to stay there until morning on pain of death. Don't you just love overprotective Sith Lords?

So instead of going to the fake "New Years" dance with the rest of our church's single adults, I'm home tonight eating crackers and drinking Sprite... and contemplating the year gone by. It's been an eventful one, folks.

Since every TV channel, newspaper, and magazine on the planet has or will soon put out a 2006 retrospective of some kind, I suppose I'll jump on the bandwagon. But rather than cover world events, politics, or entertainment, I'll briefly recap my life this year as chronicled by Me, Myself, and Vader -- Discussions With a Sith.

In 2006...

January

Peace summit which began in November 2005 continues. Bets are made on the color of the dragon on the cover of the next Eragon novel, and General Grievous is banned from grocery store visits. The first ever Kenya Starflight Short Story Contest is begun.

February

Peace summit continues. Vader nearly kills tush-happy fangirl. The weirdest Valentine's Day double date ever is planned and executed, with me going with Luke and Mom going with Vader. Blog readers are introduced to my father (very, very sorry, people).

March

Peace summit continues. Vader and Boba Fett attempt to repair and overhaul the pickup truck in an ill-fated project known as "The Beast." The Asgard from Stargate make a very weird appearance. Story contest draws to a close with eleven entries.

April

Winners of story contest are announced. (Which reminds me, Rinnalias, I owe you a story still...) Peace conference is concluded. Emperor agrees to give me a tour of several planets in exchange for hosting said conference. Stops made on Corusant, Tatooine (where I learn more about Tuskens than I ever cared to know), and Endor. Vader reads to kids at library (and there's photographic proof of it on the blog).

May

Galactic tour continues on Kamino (where I learn Vader's been cloning me) and Naboo. Emperor demands Vader leave Earth, and Vader retaliates by forming Terran Resistance to overthrow him. Forces amassed from all over the galaxy with much help from blog readers. Rebellion refuses to join Resistance, but Luke, Leia, Rogue Squadron, and the Tusken Raiders join. Forces depart for attack on Imperial fleet and Kamino.

June

Kevin returns home from his mission and Resistance returns home from successful battle. Emperor recruits Voldemort, lycanthropes, and Yuuzhan Vong in his fight against the Resistance. Rebellion attacked and decimated by Empire and allies. Emperor requests that Vader meet him on "neutral" ground on Mustafar to fight man-to-man and decide a winner. Battle of Mustafar commences, ending with the death of Count Dooku and the defeat of the Emperor. Byss is destroyed. The craziest memorial/victory celebration ever commences.

July

Jango Fett shows up and moves in. Mom gets engaged. Mothma returns in were-horse form and bites me. Vong shows up at the library and informs us that the Emperor has created a Horcrux and lives, and he demands Luke Skywalker in exchange for ending the war.

August

BUSY MONTH. Grand Admiral Thrawn covertly joins Resistance to pass along information. Vader and I attend our second Fandemonium convention. First were-horse change. Mom's engagement is broken off. Possession by the Emperor and his final defeat at Hoth. Vader and I decide to start dating, and the news is broken to my parents with completely different reactions from both parties.

September

Vacation on Cloud City. Luke announces he's dating Luna Lovegood. Book review blog discontinued. Second were-horse change and impromptu rodeo. Luke reforms the Jedi Academy, and his apprentices move in temporarily until the Jedi Temple can be remodeled for them. Mara Jade attacks and is captured.

October

Third were-horse change and attack of one of the IG-88 droids. Optimus Prime wounded and Unicron set loose upon the galaxy. Terran Resistance remobilizes to fight Unicron. Three new live-ins acquired -- Qui-gon Jinn, back from the dead, and Crookwing and Delta, Transformers that turn into starships. Rescue mission on Velocetron.

November

Battle of Cybertron, death of Vector Prime, and defeat of Unicron and his minions. Memorial service for Vector and those lost on Velocetron. DeviantArt account created. Holidays set into motion.

December

Terran Resistance Christmas Party held, and good time had by all. Mary Sue discussion held and hopefully settled once and for all.

Looking back, I have to wonder how I made it through this weird year. By all accounts I should be dead or locked up in the padded room. But somehow I made it through... and though there are things I wish I'd done differently and experiences I wish I hadn't lived through, for the most part I believe I had a pretty good one.

In a little more than twenty-four hours (at least by Idaho time), a new year will be upon us. I'm just wondering what insanity 2007 is going to have in store for us.

Christmas Update

YAAAAWWWWWN...

Holidays are over for another year. Maybe now I can get some sleep, update my fanfics, and turn on the TV without stumbling across another cheesy Christmas-themed commercial.

For those who want to know how Christmas goes in a household that plays host to a Sith Lord, here's a rundown of the past couple of days.

Christmas Eve fell on a Sunday this year, which meant church services. I don't know why I bothered going to the singles ward -- only about two dozen people showed up; the rest were either playing hooky or attending their parents' wards. I spent the three hours conducting the songs, dozing off, and wondering what possessed the live-in crew to attend church with me.

Vader, Jango, Maul, and the mechs sat in the back, and for the most part they remained on good behavior, even though they drew a LOT of stares. Hey, you try taking an asthmatic cyborg, a former Mandalorian, a tattooed Zabrack, and two sentient starfighters to church and see if you don't draw a few looks.

In the evening was our big family Christmas dinner -- twenty or thirty relatives who gather to bond over turkey, ham, potatoes, rolls, pea salad, and homemade pies. My sister showed up for the first time in years, her husband and two little Ewoks in tow. I'm not joking about the Ewok comment -- neither kid talks yet, though they both do their share of nonsensical babbling, and from the way they tore around the dining area howling and climbing on things, you'd have thought they were fleeing scouttroopers. It got to the point were we had to restrain Jango from pulling out tranquilizing darts.

One tradition at the family dinner is a nativity reenactment by the kids. Usually they pick Mary, Joseph, and the wise men ahead of time and have the rest of the kids play shepherds and angels, but one year I opted out of the traditional roles and asked to be the donkey. What can I say? I guess I've always enjoyed doing something out of the ordinary.

When we got home, it was time for more of our family traditions. Every Christmas Eve we gather around the Christmas tree, sing carols, and read the story of Christ's birth out of the Bible. This year the honor went to Vader, whose voice lended the tale a nice dramatic tone. After the Biblical story, I read an old children's Christmas book aloud to the family, then we set out cookies for Santa and went to bed.

One more tradition -- all the kids who are home for Christmas sleep in the same room on Christmas Eve. This year it was me, Brandon, and Kevin... and for some inexplicable reason Mom suggested that the live-ins could join us. Vader and Jango opted out (probably thinking themselves too mature for such a practice) and Maul left to spend Christmas with Trisha's family... but Crookwing and Delta agreed readily.

As a consequence, none of us got ANY sleep. When Prime and Wheeljack announced they were giving us the two mechs, they neglected to mention that the two were hopeless insomniacs. Add an eleven-year-old boy who still hasn't lost his belief in Santa and a twenty-two-year-old boy who loves nothing more than to egg the kid on when he's excited, and you get an atmosphere not really conducive to a good night's sleep.

But the morning made it all worth it.

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!" Brandon cried out, springing out of bed to land smack on Kevin's chest. "WAKE UP, EVERYONE, IT'S CHRISTMAS!"

I peeled myself off the mattress and tried to get my brain online while everyone else stormed the family room. By the time I joined the mob, they were already seated, singing carols and laughing and passing out gifts. I smiled. I don't care how old you are, what planet you're from, or what species you are -- there's something magic about being with friends and family on Christmas morning.

As gifts were doled out, I found myself grinning as people began opening the gifts from me. Zack, many thanks for sending the Pokemon cards -- Brandon was so excited to open that box. Ox-Bow from DeviantArt, if you ever read this, Mom loved the print of your wolf picture. Brothers Chaps, Kevin and Spencer loved the T-shirts from your Homestar Runner website.

And the live-ins... despite being hard to shop for, I think I did well. Jango loved the Chinese throwing stars, thinking them an excellent addition to his weaponry. Crookwing and Delta immediately took their gift to the DVD player and engaged in a Firefly marathon. And Vader was thrilled with the music CDs -- somewhere along the line someone got Vader hooked on '70s rock, and Mom helped me track down a slew of albums for him. Let's just say "Eagles Greatest Hits" wears a little thin after fifteen consecutive playings.

As for being on the receiving end... well...

From Kevin I received a beautiful candle in the shape of a dragon, and Brandon gave me the Cars DVD. My mom gave me Clone Wars Season 2 and an MP3 player, and from my dad I received clothes -- most of which are being returned, since a lot of them don't fit and aren't in styles that I normally wear.

Crookwing and Delta wore huge grins as I opened their present, which turned out to be some kind of weapon. It looks like a blaster, but as I found out when I accidentally pulled the trigger, it fires some kind of energy that packs a lot more punch than your average Star Wars style blaster. Luckily, we were going to throw out the old recliner anyway...

Jango's gift turned out to be a decorative knife with an eagle's head as the handle and a belt sheathe. It was beautiful, but I think it's going on my wall. I doubt I can wear the thing in public legally.

Remembering Vader's gift from last year -- which was currently gnawing away at the wreath on the back door -- I was a little leery this year. But I needn't have worried. When I opened the package to reveal a small velvet box, Mom squealed and I about passed out.

"I didn't hear about this," laughed Kevin. "So this is more serious than I thought..."

"I'm NOT proposing," Vader growled, probably going bright red under the mask. "It isn't a ring."

I opened the box. Inside was a silver pendant shaped like a dragon, its wings spread and an emerald clutched in its claws.

"It's beautiful." I clasped it around my neck. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

So all in all, a nice Christmas. Now if we can just survive the aftermath without wanting to torch a Firefly DVD or a KISS CD to preserve our collective sanity...

The Great Mary Sue Debate

NOTE: I'm operating on little sleep tonight -- Kevin came home from Basic Training yesterday and his flight came in VERY late. So forgive me if this entry's a little incoherent.

I look up from the little arts-and-crafts corner that has now been set up in our kitchen to hear a rather heated exchange taking place in the living room. What now? Despite most of the Resistance having gone home (as of now we're down to Vader, Maul, Jango, Qui-gon, Crookwing, and Delta), spats are still commonplace here -- if not between the live-ins themselves, then between one of them and Mom or myself or, rarely, Brandon. A day doesn't go by without Jango making some snide remark about the Jedi in Qui-gon's presence (luckily he has the good grace to not overreact to such comments) or Mom letting someone have it for knocking a hole in a wall or Delta taking offense to being called a droid.

I guess I should be used to these by now, but I'm not. On the contrary, they annoy me more as time goes by. And with the holidays upon us, I really hate having to play referee all the time.

Brandon looks up from hot-gluing fake eyes to the Christmas spider ornaments he's making for extended family members this year. "Why do they always fight?"

"Maybe the 'no weapons in the house' rule forces them to use words to spar," I reply, and I set down the materials for my own extended-family gift project (creating small plaques of family coats of arms) and head for the living room to investigate.

"What is it this time?" I ask.

Jango is at the computer, scrolling down a screen and shaking his head. Qui-gon and Vader stand behind his chair, the Jedi smiling amusedly, the cyborg with his arms folded in an exasperated gesture. Crookwing has pulled up a chair to sit beside Jango, and he has a curious expression on his face. Upon hearing my question they all turn to face me.

"Let me guess," I smirk. "Jango discovered the joys of adult fan fiction."

"No, I stumbled upon THAT little thrill some time ago," he replies, giving a shudder. "What gives so many people the idea that I'm gay?"

"The fact that you comissioned a cloned son instead of seeking out a wife or girlfriend to bear the child, perhaps?" Qui-gon suggested.

"Sexual preference had NOTHING to do with that choice," Jango defends.

"It could be much worse, Jango," Vader tells him. "These authors could be pairing you with your own offspring."

Jango laughs. "I take it they've gotten sick ideas about you and your own kids?"

"Get your heads out of the gutter, gentlemen, and tell me what the fighting was about," I interrupt.

Jango gestures to the web page displayed on the moniter. "They're calling you a Mary Sue."

I roll my eyes. "That was months ago. And I've been trying to put that little episode behind me..."

"Not on the blog, on someone's website!" he protests.

"Someone reviewed your blog as an ongoing fan fiction rather than as a blog," Vader tells me. "Among other things, they accused you of using the blog as an excuse to promote yourself as the ultimate Mary Sue."

"Well, if you know the definition of 'Mary Sue,' she fits," Qui-gon points out.

"Don't start!" Jango snaps.

"What's the big deal?" Crookwing asks. "What is a Mary Sue anyway, and why is it such an insult to be called one?"

I sigh and sit down in the armchair by the comp. "A Mary Sue is a term used to describe an original character in someone's fan fiction," I reply. "Usually this character is female, though there have been instances of male Sues. A Sue is usually based on the author of the story, whether appearance-wise or personality-wise. They're usually super-powered somehow and are constantly saving the day, having the heroes or villians fall in love with them, or getting their butts into trouble so the major characters have to drop everything and save them. In short, they're too good to be true."

"Ah," Crookwing replies, nodding. "I think I get it."

"So someone's apparently read my blog, assumed it's fictional, and decided that I'm using it to fulfill my fantasies," I continue. "In short, I'm creating a Mary Sue."

"I can see how that is true..." Qui-gon notes.

"You are NOT a Sue," Vader snarls, glaring at the older Jedi. "And anyone who accuses you of such..."

"Stop right there," I tell him. "The more you fight with people about whether I'm Sue-ish or not, the more people only assume I AM one because you're jumping to my rescue."

He subsides, but not without an irritated snort.

"Okay, people, let's look at the facts," I state. "You've all at least skimmed the blog, right?"

They nod or otherwise reply affirmitively.

"So the blog is the story of my life. Thus, the character of Kenya Starflight in the blog is pretty much based on the author -- I mean, it kinda has to be, doesn't it?"

"Right," Jango acknowledges, "but..."

"And think about it -- I fit the criteria," I go on. "I have powers -- lycanthropy counts as a power, especially since I can now change to horse form at will. I'm friendly with characters from several different universes, including and especially Star Wars. I'm dating Darth Vader, which counts for a LOT of Sue points, believe me. And since getting involved in the Resistance, I've had to do a lot of saving... and be saved in return." I raise an eyebrow at Vader. "Did I get anything wrong?"

"No, but..."

"So let's face it -- the reviewer got that right. I'm a Mary Sue. Not that I ever wanted to be, but with the way my life's gone this year, I guess it had to happen."

Qui-gon nods agreement while Jango and Vader glower in his direction.

"BUT," I continue, "not all Sues are a bad thing. Some people avoid Mary Sues, and they'll even go as far as to call ANY original character a Mary Sue, whether or not they fit the criteria. I personally enjoy reading stories with original characters in them. I don't purposefully try to determine for myself whether they're Sues or not, and if I sense Sue-ish qualities, I'm not going to throw a fit over it. I read a story based on whether or not it entertains me, Sue or no Sue. And frankly, I've found Mary Sue stories I've immensely enjoyed... and stories without Sues that bored me to tears."

Qui-gon nods again. "You accept the label of Mary Sue because you don't necessarily see it as an insult."

"I still dislike it," Vader cuts in. "And if you describe yourself as a Sue, what about your friends who also play host to otherworldly guests? Are they Sues as well?"

"I don't think of them as Sues at all," I reply. "I don't assign people labels -- that' s not how I was raised. And I'm certainly not going to start now." I get up. "Now I have Christmas presents to finish. Please don't bug me unless you have to."

"Fine, we'll find other means of entertainment," Jango retorts, turning to the computer and entering something into the browser bar. "Who wants to explore DeviantArt?"

"No way!" Crookwing protests. "My optics are still burning from that Kingdom Hearts slash fanart..."

I sigh and sit down to finish the plaques. Between the antics of the live-ins and the stress of the holidays, is my sanity going to make it through the last few weeks of 2006 intact?

Wait a minute, the remaining shreds of my sanity have been MIA since mid-1997. Never mind.

Party on the Mountain

I pull the sleigh over a small hill and back to the huge lodge where the bulk of the party is taking place. On the way I pass a gaggle of partygoers who seem to be daring Axel to go down one of the expert hills on a snowboard. I give them a wide berth. Knowing a few of these people, they'd probably try to talk me into going down the hill after him. Still in horse form, even.

Last stop, everyone off, I tell the passengers. Xam, I filled my part of the bargain, now take 'em off.

He chuckles and removes the fake reindeer antlers from my head, then pulls off the Santa hat. My deal with the former Sith is that if I wore the reindeer antlers, he had to don the red hat.

Once everyone's out of the sleigh, Qui-gon removes the harness, and I duck into a back room of the lodge to change. Once I'm in human form and wearing some actual clothes, I rejoin the party-goers.

The lodge is festive with a freshly-cut and decorated tree, Christmas lights all over the place, and a good percentage of the guests wearing Santa hats. People are eating, dancing, talking, watching a movie in one corner (The Grinch with Jim Carrey), or sneaking over to another corner where someone's hung some mistletoe. At one table, members of Organization XIII engage in conversation with She-Nexu, Luka, and a few others I presume are fellow werecats. At another, Dash is dealing out a hand of sabaac to Eragon and the Phantom. Maul is dancing with Trisha to the tune of "Jingle Bell Rock," performed by Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes, and Zacharias and Villis are doing their best to convince a Junkion to let them install an anti-grav device on him while he's in motorcycle mode.

I track down Vader and sit down beside him, waiting for him to finish his conversation with Snape.

"Miss Starflight," Snape smiles. "It has been awhile."

"Hello, Snape," I reply. "How's William?"

"Very well, thank you." He hands the boy to me. "He misses his godparents."

"He has grown," Vader notes. "He has his father's eyes, I see."

Snape smiles thinly.

A loud crash comes from one corner. I roll my eyes. Someone should have warned Spencer that it wasn't a good idea to get fresh with Maul's girlfriend...

Luke comes in from outside, red-faced and dripping wet. He wipes melting snow out of his hair and approaches his father.

"Remind me again why we decided the skiing would be a good idea."

Vader chuckles. "Call it a test in agility and balance, if you will, son."

"You mean to tell me Luke Skywalker can hit two-meter-wide targets and stand on one hand, but he can't balance on a set of skis?" I ask, arching an eyebrow.

"Ha ha," he replies, unamused, even as Vader and Snape share a laugh.

The music changes... and a few people groan. Zack is onstage, playing "O Holy Night" on the bagpipes. C'mon, people, it's not bad music when someone who actually knows how to play is behind the instrument.

"You should be getting ready to go up, Kenya," Vader tells me, taking William from me.

"I suppose I should." I nod at Snape. "Merry Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," he tells me, returning the nod.

I smile as I head for the stage, smiling and greeting my Resistance friends on the way. I have to admit, my mood has improved over the past few hours. And since I last posted regarding my lack of Christmas spirit, I think I've finally managed to recapture some of that spirit. Decorating the house has helped, as has the knowledge that Kevin comes home from boot camp this week. And all my wonderful friends among the Resistance have gone the extra mile to simply be here, to greet me and ask how I've been doing since our last chaotic meeting on Cybertron.

And my family... Brandon sitting between a werecat cub and Wheelie as the kids watch the movie, Mom in a corner flirting with Jango, Spencer and a TIE pilot having an egg-nog-chugging contest (non-alcoholic, but they're going to make themselves sick if they're not careful)...

Even without the Resistance keeping me busy, the events of this year have been kind of rough on my family. But even though Christmas is traditionally a crazy time of year, we're finding that the holidays are proving the break we need from the insanity of our "normal" lives.

After Zack steps off the stage, Kyxiel performs a rendition of "Carol of the Bells." Then Prime and Megatron team up for a weird but oddly fitting duet, singing the version of "Little Drummer Boy" made popular years ago by Bing Crosby and David Bowie. Once the mechs leave the stage, it's my turn.

I step up to the microphone, adjust it to my height, and begin the song that I believe is quite appropriate for this crowd this year:

Where are you Christmas?
Why can't I find you?
Why have you gone away?
Where is the laughter
You used to bring me?
Why can't I hear music play?

My world is changing
I'm rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes too?

Where are you Christmas?
Do you remember
The one you used to know?
I'm not the same one
See what the time's done
Is that why you have let me go?

Christmas is here
Everywhere
Christmas is here
If you care
If there is love in your heart and your mind
You will feel like Christmas all the time

I feel you Christmas
I know I've found you
You never fade away
The joy of Christmas
Stays here inside us
Fills each and every heart with love

Where are you Christmas?
Fill your heart with love

I walk quickly off the stage as people applaud, feeling my face go slightly red. I'm not that big on performing onstage...

"Oh Kenya?"

I turn to see Crookwing giving me a sly grin.

"What is it, flyboy?"

"Look where you're standing."

I look up... and groan. "Ugh, they HAD to hang the mistletoe by the stage..."

Crookwing laughs. "You up for kissing a TIE fighter?"

"Let her alone, Crookwing," Vader tells him, moving in to stand beside me. "Besides, she's taken."

I laugh and stretch up on tiptoe to kiss the side of his mask. "Merry Christmas, Darth."

"Merry Christmas, Kenya." He puts an arm around my shoulders and leads me out to the dance floor.

*Lyrics to "Where Are You, Christmas?" (sung by Faith Hill) are not mine

The Dark Lord Speaks X: Sleigh Ride

As I step outside and onto the back deck, my breath fogs out from my air output vent like smoke. The nights have been bitterly cold for the last week or so, and already I see the light of the full moon glinting off a rapidly forming patina of frost on the ground and on the three vehicles on Kenya's property. The sky is eerily clear, with the stars standing out in sharp clarity against the blue-black expanse.

What is it about a full moon in the sky that makes one more fully appreciate the wonder of the night?

Something snorts, and I see Kenya in her horse form standing in the driveway, steam pluming from her muzzle as if she were a dragon. I step off the deck and head toward her, the remains of this weekend's snow crunching under my boots.

We ready to give this a go? she asks.

"If you are ready, so am I," I reply.

I can't believe I even suggested this.

"Are you backing out?"

Heck, no. I promised I'd do this. I'm not bailing now.

I nod and double-check her harness, ensuring the straps are the proper tightness. As I work the others come outside to watch.

"Cool, we're going on a sleigh ride!" says Kenya's stepbrother Spencer, stuffing his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders against the cold.

"Do you do something like this every full moon?" asks Qui-gon, who unlike Spencer at least had the sense to put on some gloves and something heavier than a hooded sweatshirt.

No, most of the time we just ride around, Kenya replies. Last month... did we do anything last month... oh yeah, we were on Cybertron. Missed the full moon entirely.

I finish hitching her to the sleigh and climb in. The others -- Spencer, Qui-gon, Jango, and Brandon -- pile in after me, jostling each other around for space before settling in comfortably.

Everyone ready? Here we go!

Kenya goes into a trot, pulling the sleigh down the lane and into the pasture. There is no destination tonight -- this is simply a trial run for the Christmas party this coming Sunday. She wished to fit in some practice during the full moon.

I take a moment to reflect as we cross the pasture. This will be my second Christmas on the planet of Earth, but in many ways it feels like my first. Perhaps that is because I spent last Christmas trying to absorb the many rituals and myths that surround the holiday, while this year I can more fully appreciate the season. Or perhaps renouncing the dark side and reuniting with my children plays a role. Or perhaps a combination of the two.

Kenya has told me often that the reason she and many others celebrate Christmas is to commemorate the day of Christ's birth. I know the story of this world's "Chosen One," of course, even if I'm not sure entirely what to make of it. And though I do not consider myself Christian, I respect the power and teachings of this great man, for the truths he spoke over two thousand years ago still resonate deeply today.

And anymore, it seems our weary, cynical, war-torn galaxy can use some of those truths. "Peace on Earth" does not seem like such a cliche when you have spent so long actually fighting for it. "Love thine enemy" is not so laughable when you consider the many among the Resistance who once considered each other mortal foes but now not only fight side by side but call each other friends. "Turn the other cheek" is not a catchphrase of the cowardly or weak, but a safeguard against the terrible damage revenge wreaks upon all parties involved.

"Come follow me..." I can certainly think of far worse mentors to follow.

I will always remain a Jedi at heart -- even the teachings of the Sith could not drive that totally from me. But even the Jedi should not be above learning from one who obviously knew what he was talking about.

I smile as Brandon breaks into song, and the others join in with various degrees of success. Kenya snorts as if enjoying a laugh at some of the off-key voices before turning for another circuit of the pasture.