Purrsday Report For November 20, 2025

 

🙀🧡😸

 
            It had been a while, so our agents felt that it was time to get together to compare notes. It was evening, which, of course, comes stupidly early late in November. Suzy had the sliding glass door to gaze into, and Toots had her shiny window in the shop.
 
            Agent Suzy wrapped her tail tightly around herself in loaf position, looked anxiously behind her back, and whispered, “Anything new to report, Agent Toots?”
            “Why are you whispering, Agent Suzy?” said Agent Toots.
            “I don’t want either my brother or Mr. Fluffbag to hear me. Do you have a report?” said Suzy.
            “It’s been quiet. Too quiet! That can only mean one thing, Agent Suzy. They can’t fool me. They’re being quiet. Do you understand!!” said Agent Toots, with conviction.
            “Then there’s no way to tell! Anything is possible!” said Agent Suzy. “That curls my whiskers!”
            “Under cover of November darkness, Hairy Men shamble down the highway calling out in the voices of owls, dogs, wild cats, cars, people talking! It’s impossible to tell. But, all I saw was some raccoons looking for trouble, and if I was outside, Agent Suzy, I tell you they would have found it! I’m not afraid of those fat things,” said Agent Toots. “I would come at them!”
            “That’s kind of an open ended report. Shall we say raccoons for sure then?” said Agent Suzy. “I don’t think the Hairy Men shamble. They have special hips and knees. They move kind of like a train car.”
            “There’s an idea that bears looking into,” said Agent Toots. “Do you have anything to report? Anything scary going on up there in the land of mountains and deep dark forests?”
            “Nothing besides the usual. Oh! In the house here? Well, there have been outrages. Mr. Baby, the Fluffbag, is still here. That’s bad enough, but they’ve been talking about taking him outside on a leash like a dog! I would laugh because no cat should be on a leash. But still, I wouldn’t bite or scratch if they took me outside on a leash. Beggers can’t be choosers, Agent Toots,” said Agent Suzy.
            “Shall we drop the agents bit, Suzy? Neither one of us has anything to report, said Toots, quietly.
            “I guess so, Toots. In fact, the scariest thing that happened yesterday is that she made more sauerkraut,” admitted Suzy.
            “That’s appalling though,” said Toots. “Whoever heard of eating spritzig cabbage, but they do it!”
            “Hard to believe, bye for now, Sweetie,” said Suzy, who was getting sleepy.
            “Talk to you soon, Suze,” said Toots.
            So everything was actually peaceful on Kittycomm!™ And, that’s a good thing!

🧡

An Audience With The King

 

            Sitting there between Ramona and Twigg, Marge gathered her thoughts before speaking. She knew that Ralph wasn’t rushing her into it, so she sat quietly. The fire was warm on her shins, the flames flickered pleasantly. She was at peace, right where she was.
            Ramona did make coffee to go with the pastries, which were a great success with the family. Blue wanted a piece. The cats did not, pastry being much too lightweight for pumas.
            After the treat was eaten, and the coffee drunk, Twigg put the bakery box on the fire.
            Finally, Marge, spoke, “I’m happy here in the forest. The forest is the only place where I have felt as if I belonged and was a part of it. I never fit anywhere else.
            “This was a surprise to me. I thought that my life would be the usual path, school, college, job, maybe family. But after I went home the last few times I visited here, that path felt hollow and sad to me. It’s not what I want.”
            “So, what do you really want? Be really sure. There are not too many ways for a young woman to maker her way in the Great Forest. Do you have any ideas how you might do that?” said Ralph. “And how can I help you?”
            “My mother has been paying for everything. Before I change everything and leave college I want to make sure that she doesn’t have to spend any more money on me. This leads me to looking into the Forest Service. It’s a little bit of a long shot, but I did some research and there is a chance that there might be a volunteer job with them. It pays less than even a trainee ranger receives, but enough because it’s typical for housing to be provided,” said Marge.
            “Well, Marge,” said Ramona, “I can see why you would prefer to be here. I’ve never been down into town myself. Maeve tells me that it’s very busy, with many people moving around and talking and busily doing many things and that there are few trees, only a little grass and only a few plants in gardens. I don’t think I could live there either.”
            “Who is Maeve, Ramona,” said Marge.
            “Oh, haven’t you met Maeve? She is our friend, a very special sort of a Raven. She brings and takes the news. She observes the world from high in the air. I believe that she has seen you! In fact, I’m sure of it. She misses nothing,” said Ramona. She had taken a seat again after the coffee and all.
            “I would very much like to meet her,” said Marge. Then turning to Ralph again, she said, “The reason that I came to you, Sir, is that I have heard that the ranger in this section of the National Forst is a very good friend of yours.
            “They said, on the website, to speak to someone at a station and see if there was a position opening. I thought my chances would be better if you introduced me to him! Would that be possible?” she said at last, getting to the point.
              “Of course, I will take you to speak to the ranger,” said Ralph. “Do you have another plan in case this one doesn’t work out?”
            “Not really. I’m not a Forest Keeper, no matter how much I might want to be. If I can’t work for the Forest Service, I’m not sure what to do next,” she admitted.
            “Marge, you’re the first human who ever said that to me!” said Ralph. “I wish that you could be! I would change you into one of us if I could, but I can’t do that!”
            “Your mother wouldn’t like that very much,” laughed Ramona.
            “Then she wouldn’t believe in me either!” crowed Marge, enjoying the idea. “I would be impossible, imaginary, mythic! Mom can’t see those things at all.”        
            And as if it were written into the script somehow, right on schedule, Maeve wafted down out of the opening to the sky over their heads and landed on Ralph’s shoulder. She folder her wings neatly and looked around. If a raven could have raised her eyebrows, Maeve would have.
            “What’s up, Boss,” said she. But she was looking right at Marge while she said it.
            “Marge, this is Maeve. Maeve this is Marge. It’s about time you two met. You probably know, because you see it all, that Marge is Twigg’s good friend.
            “Now, Marge would like to work for Ranger Rick, so I’m going to go introduce them. Want to come along?” said Ralph.
            “Of course I do, Boss,” said Maeve. “Let’s go!”
            Therefore, looking nothing at all, not really, like characters from the Wizard of Oz, towering Ralph, with Maeve on his shoulder, Twigg only slightly less imposing than his father, and Marge in her puffer jacket, rain hat, and Carhartts, and backpack all set out for the ranger station together.
            “Oh, this isn’t far from the Home Clearing!” said Marge when she saw the Forest Service station come into view.
            “Sometimes the path is shorter than at other times, but yes, we are near neighbors in a way, Rick and I,” said Ralph.
            Rick’s service vehicle was parked by the dumpster at the out edge of the parking lot, so it looked like an interview was coming up.

🍀

A Fabulous Tootsday To One and All!

 

⭐A friend's kitty, when he was very young.⭐

The cats got together to wish you all a great day!

"We love you will sniffs, chomps, licks, all the usual!"

The Purring™ was intense and heartfelt!

Happy Tootsday!

Meow!

🤍

🌸

It's Just Like My Dream!

 

Pacific Crest Trail

            Before Marge left town, she drove down to Grand Ave. and parked in front of the new French bakery. She wanted to buy some fancy pastries for Twigg, and maybe his family, in case she got to talk to them. This wasn’t the usual doughnut type place. Everything had French names. So, she just picked four types, and bought three of each. She laughed because the rather startling sum could be considered an investment in her future, if one looked at it the right way.
            She put the box on the floorboards in front on the passenger’s side, so it couldn’t fall no matter how many times she hit the brakes.
            Marge didn’t like the freeway much, so she drove eastward out of town and connected with old highway 9, and turned north. Then she drove up to Arlington and made the right turn onto 530. It was a pleasantly rural drive, even though the sky was low and cloudy and looked like rain. Soon, she made the right turn onto SR20. Next was the right turn onto the small gravel road where her mother lived at the very end right before the path leading out to Thaga and Ooog’s house, and then the meadow and her meeting place with Twigg.
            It was always a little tricky parking by her mom’s house without going in to visit. Fortunately Hondas are quiet. It was more a matter of timing than anything else.
            Under the cover of greyness driving a grey car, Marge ghosted past the front of Enid’s house and parked near some bushes just beyond. She came around to the other side and shouldered the ever present backpack, and taking the box of pastries, she closed the door quietly and locked up.
            It was just before noon. She had timed this well.
            Bushes full of raindrops pushed in from both sides of the path. It must have already rained up here earlier. Carhartts and a puffer jacket are pretty good rain gear, with one of those goofy rain hats.
            Nobody was in evidence at Thaga’s place, though there were lights in the window.
            As usual, Marge got there first. She didn’t sit because the ground was kind of wet.
            But very soon, Twigg appeared. He made no sound.
            “Hi, Margie,” he said as he came around the Gifting Stump.
            Looking him over and sensing his size all over again, Marge said, “No bees today, Twigg?”
            “Oh, yeah. On days like this they are sleepy and stay around the hive,” said Twigg.
            “Makes sense. It doesn't look too floral out here today. Hey, look, I brought some goodies. I was hoping to maybe talk to Ralph and Ramona,” said Marge. She lifted the lid a little so he could peek in.
            “What’s up?” said he.
            “I’ve just about decided to change my life totally. I want to be in the forest. I’m able to work and I’m thinking about the Forest Service. Stuff I’ve been reading said I should talk to a ranger to see if there are any volunteer positions around here.
            “I’m tired of that room I live in. My classes seem meaningless. I don’t need them. No school can make a person into a painter. Either they are or they aren’t. You know?” said Marge.
            “How can my dad help you?” said Twigg.
            “Well. I remember that he is friends with the local Forest Service ranger. You told me about them pretending that there are none of you guys around here and how they work together to keep the secret. I thought that was pretty cool, and I was hoping for an introduction, to tell the truth,” she said finally.
            “I’m pretty sure he would do that. Let’s go see,” said Twigg. “I’ll carry the box if you like.”
            As they set off for the Home Clearing, Marge in front and Twigg behind, with the box of pastries, a great big black bird was circling in the sky overhead.
            The last time Marge had entered the forest here there had been a strange transitional moment when she entered. It had been almost like a dimensional shift. This time she just walked right in.
            “What happened, Twigg? Why didn’t I have to do that shift thing this time?” said Marge.
            “I think the forest knows you,” said Twigg. He smiled his sweet brown eyed smile then.
            “Really?” she said, looking around in wonder at the huge fir trunks and small flowers along the path, and the huckleberry bushes and salal. She put out her hand and touched the leaves as she walked.
            “It’s just like my dream, Twigg,” she said.
            “You’ve been here before twice now,” said Twigg.
            She walked slowly remembering the way to the Home Clearing. Bob and Berry saw them coming and greeted them with tails swinging together and cat smiles on their faces. Then they turned and preceded the friends down the path.
            As Twigg and Marge neared the center, where the fire was, a white wolf dashed out, circled them, and ran back down.
            At the center, sitting by their fire were Ralph, imposing, humorous, curious, and Ramona, serenely presiding. Cherry sat on Ralph’s knee, watching Marge come in with Twigg behind.
            “Blue, come to me,” said the little child on her father’s knee, and the wolf ran up, licked her hand and settled down at Ralph’s feet.
            “It’s good to see you again, Marge,” said Ralph. “It’s been too long!”
            “Welcome, Marge,” said Ramona, “Please sit by our fire. I bet it’s been raining out there hasn’t it? If you have time, I’ll make coffee.”
            “Thank you both. It is a little damp out there,” said Marge, completely charmed, as she took a seat near Ramona.
            “She came bearing a gift of French delicacies,” said Twigg to the group in general, before sitting beside Marge. “She has a question to ask.”
            “What can I help you with?” said Ralph.
            There he sat, smiling, waiting for the girl to speak.

🍁

Marge and the Rainy Sunday Night

 

            Mid-quarter. Classes tomorrow. Marge sighed heavily.
            She was sitting on the narrow hard bed in her rented room. Her heavy brown hair was loose on her shoulders, and she was wearing a yellow flannel nightgown printed in juvenile motifs, for the fun of it. She looked down at her knees and frowned thoughtfully.
            It didn’t seem right.
            “I don’t really belong here,” she told the room, listening to her own voice.
            She thought of her friend, Twigg, then she smiled. She enjoyed thinking of what her classmates would say if they knew her secret.
            There was a vertical slice of shiny black window glass where the curtains parted. In the middle distance were street lights and a few other lit objects and signs. Inside the room there was a simple small table and a chair. Her laptop and phone lay on the table next to a cheap lamp. Its cylindrical shade glowed dully She looked around the room, surveying her belongings. There wasn’t much and she kept it that way. The greatest bulk of it, besides some clothing, was her supplies for art classes.
            A bathroom shared by three other female students was down the hall.
            “I need to get out of here,” she said to the walls. The walls didn’t argue against it.
            Eventually Marge lay down and covered up and went to sleep with her lamp still switched on.
            During the night she dreamed of the forest. In the dream she walked a path between first growth giants. The air was complex with bird calls, insect voices, and subliminal influences. A scent rose from the forest floor, ancient, known, speaking of both birth and death, decay and newness. A fungal note to it, but also a resinous backnote.
            As  she walked she touched ferns, salal, huckleberry foliage. She laid her hands on fir bark and stood listening. Yes, there was something there.
            There was a wind too. It turned things this way and that, as if to say, “look here!” She didn’t know the names of the flowers she saw, but they gazed up at her trustingly, vulnerably.
            Further along, a mountain cat paced before her. Before turning around a bend in the trail, the cat turned and looked at Marge with wise yellow eyes.
            She began to think that she was actually there to meet Twigg, but he was being hard to find.
            Suddenly a huge black raven drifted through the atmosphere between the trunk and vanished.
            She awoke with a sharp intake of breath. When she realized where she was, she cried.
            That didn’t last long. Marge was a decisive girl.
            She grabbed her phone and called Enid, her mother, who was paying for everything, tuition, food, rent, supplies and gas.
            “Mom, this isn’t working. I have to do something else,” she told her mother.
            “You woke me at 5AM to tell me you’re dropping out?” said Enid.
            “Not just dropping out. I want to work in the forest, maybe be a forest ranger or something,” said Marge, expecting trouble.
            “Look, before you do anything, you’d better do a lot of research. I’m not sure art majors are a natural for the forest service. I mean, think about it. They want science types,” said Enid.
            “I will, don’t worry, Mom,” said Marge, already opening and waking her computer.
            A lot of research is what she did, and she found out that Enid was correct about becoming a ranger, but that there were volunteer jobs, that paid less money, but enough, and that volunteer programs could lead to ranger positions, possibly. She could do trail maintenance, or host a camp. The more she looked into it, the better she liked it. The information she found online suggested that she go to a Forest Service ranger station and talk to the ranger about volunteering.
            Saturday coming up was her usual date to visit Twigg.
            She worked her way through the week’s classes, as she normally did.
            Saturday morning came. She needed to talk to Twigg and maybe even Ralph, before blowing her whole deal out of the water.

🍃

Just One Of Those Bubbly Open Threads

 A glorious day to you all!

With hearts as light as bubbles.

🤍

The Most Essential Thing A Believer in Jesus Can Do

 

By our dear friend, Babbazee

The most important thing a Jew can do 
(Also, any believer in Jesus, too!) 

according to the biblical covenant

 is  TOV* (literally in Hebrew  "good")

TOV means acts of  loving kindness,

 doing "good"

but it also means much more than just acts of loving kindness 

or doing good

 because Hebrew is a deep language

and the context around a word shades a word's meaning in situ

apparently if we read Genesis correctly 

the entire reason for our existence

 is to do TOV,

 God makes us a speaking (generative) presence 

created in his image

 to carry out this TOV on the earth. 

So if like Jesus I want to be a good Jew and do TOV in the world, 

which is what "serving God" actually means,

what does that mean? what can I do? 

Jesus said his only command is "love " (John 13)

which has been interpreted collectively as weak willed performance art, 

a hippy dippy flower trip, 

something so shallow self centered, full of Satan and tied to sexuality

 that even Charlie Manson's girls were dead into LOVE...

whereas the reality is that what Jesus was commanding 

was the hardest and most impossible thing we could possibly try to do. 

TOV,  good, kindness, love.... even when they are nailing you to a tree,

 stoning you to death in the street, throwing you in the ovens.

 Do TOV said Jesus regardless of what they do. 

He also said if we enter a place 

where the people are so immune to TOV that you can make no dent

you should shake the sand from your sandals and split, (Matthew 10)

further he told us only those who have endurance can accomplish this TOV doing

https://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/Enduring

Other than that, he never offered any other solution or instruction. 

No revolutionary plan, no practical guideline,

 no government policies or social services,  

no political or secular solution.

 Just TOV. Go do TOV.  And endure to the end.

So we go.

And there's the Ha Satan, (literally translates from Hebrew as THE ADVESARY)

Satan! our old friend, the author of almost everything we "love", 

deeply woven into everything earthly surrounding us, 

sympathy for the devil if you please... 

We do sympathize, we love him, we don't even know we love him, 

today more that ever he is an all encompassing presence in our daily lives 

so fully integrated as to go unnoticed. Our silent partner. 

Our groomer, our abuser. 

Our "Love" is full of the Ha Satan. 

How to do TOV then 

when we have been groomed to be the lovers of Ha Satan

 and are completely immersed in his world?

How to do TOV when we don't even know what TOV is?

You are surrounded in life by people that you "love"

 and that ostensibly  "love" you. 

Husbands, wives, parents, children, brothers, sisters, friends. 

They all say they love you

 and they believe that they love you. 

You say you love them, and believe you love them too.

 Proof or expressions of that love 

are largely tied up in appearances

and the acquisition of "things",  emotional or material

 which the lover and the loved each respectively perceive as "expected"

But that love is not the TOV, not the "love" that Jesus commanded us to do.

That love is full of the SELF, full of conditions and needs,

full of distorted expectations, 

full of shit.

How to do TOV at all then,

as unwilling unconscious lovers of  Ha Satan ourselves,

among the unwitting and willing lovers of Ha Satan 

who will not thank us for our TOV 

no, they will eat our TOV, spit it out in our faces 

and then nail us to the nearest tree.

It's impossible. 

But we have to try. It's the only direction we have been given.

We can not do it out of our own powers, 

which is where the negating of self thing comes in.

It has to be done outside of ego, intellect and our own needs

 therefore it has to be done by retracting our "selves" enough

 to allow God's presence a path through to do it for us. (Isaiah 35) 

Then it becomes easy....

"My Yoke is Light" (Matthew 11)

This is not my power,

this is the power of my God (Genesis 41)

The kabbalistic interpretation 

of the begininng of the universe is called "Tzim Tzum"

It is a retraction.

The idea is that there is GOD and nothing else.  

GOD retracts a portion of himself

 in order to clear a space

 for the existence of the universe

"The kingdom of heaven is within" (Luke 17)

Likewise 

made in his image

we must retract a portion of ourselves in order to do TOV .

*TOV is pronounced with a long O.