Um, Dateline, Feb. 15, 2026. It's a Kitten Thing..

             It's not a very good video, but I managed to wrassle it from my text messages to my computer and into Blogger.

            This is the litter of Bengals in question. He says I can have my pick, $400 for two of the small beasts. The reason the price is low is because he has 8 other Bengals! WTH?

            BW and I are most likely going to go meet him at the Walmart in Smokey Point, just up the freeway later today.

            I'll let you know what happened and how it all went down. Possibly this is crazy!

Home and resting, next the nice box apartment!

😹😻😸😹
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"So, Get This, Ramona!"

 

            Ralph had been up to the meadow inspecting the progress of the Alder Tree House. He was happy to see that the growth of the group was toward each other and that the branches were beginning to interlace into a dome shape. It was looking good. The floor was looking good too.
            But that’s a story for another day. Ralph smiled at the memory.
            His big old cedar log lay between where he had come from and where he was going. So, since it was there and he was there too, he decided to lie down just to see if it still fit. It was a dry day, good for lying on a log and just pondering.
            Soon, down at the Fire Circle, Ramona could hear him snoring. Campground visitors thought what they were hearing was a remote landslide, possibly. Or maybe, one thought, it was possible to have a bit of thunder way up the mountain, even without clouds.
            He started hearing a familiar voice. Someone was speaking to him.
            “Boss! Boss!” said the voice.
            “Huh?” said Ralph. “I’m awake. I think. What’s up?”
            “There’s a hippie with a camera up in the Alder Tree House. She. A she hippie. She’s putting it all on camera and talking like she’s in charge!” said Maeve, nervously.    
            “Oh. I better go talk to her,” yawned Ralph, not nervously at all. “I think I better do something about the perimeter of the meadow, huh?”
            “Yeah, but she’s got it all on camera now!” croaked Maeve.
            “I’m going!” said Ralph. “Want to come along, Birdie?”
            “Yeah! You might need a witness, Boss!” said Maeve.
            So, Raven on shoulder, Ralph walked back up into the meadow, past the Gifting Stump and out to the growing Alder Tree House. He saw that; indeed, someone was there. In fact she was inside the structure recording the floor. She seemed pretty excited.
            “The most evolved structure I’ve ever seen….” The voice inside the building could be heard to say.           
            “I just wiped her GoPro, Birdie. But she might still be able to come back,” murmured Ralph, “Unless I do something.” He stood by the door, considering his next move.
            Right then, the girl popped out of the doorway of the ‘structure,’ got a load of Ralph and Maeve and ran back into the interior. In a couple of minutes, she peeked out from behind one of the alder trunks. She blinked a couple of times.
            “Hey,” said Ralph. “Howdeedo? Anything I can do to  help?”
            “Um. Well. Did you make this structure? I’ve never seen anything like it,” said the girl. “I’ve never heard a Sasquatch speak English either.”
            “With help, I did. I learned English so I could talk to humans. It seemed useful,” said Ralph.
            “But, why did you build it? I’ve never seen anything like it anywhere,” she insisted.
            “It’s a gift. You gotta name? I’m Ralph. This is Maeve.”
            “Ashley,” she said. “I make videos for YouTube. I don’t suppose you know YouTube?”
            “Sure do! Ranger Rick, over at the Ranger Station and I watch videos sometimes. He has this foldup computer thing,” Ralph said. “So, um, what kind of videos do you make, Ashley?”
            “I do short programs to help people know how to approach the forest with the right intentions. It’s almost a Zen thing I teach. Like how a human shouldn’t come out looking for Forest People with a bunch of electronic equipment and a pushy, demanding manner, you know? You must know!” said Ashley. “It’s sort of like establishing relationship with the forest and everything that is there!”
            “That sounds pretty good. But I notice that you are here with a camera!” Ralph raised his eyebrows.
            “But I have to! How else can I get the message out? I need my camera,” said Ashley, coming out from behind the alder trunk.
            “I think your heart is in the right place, Kiddo. But we are a reserved people. Most video about us is so goofy that it would never lead to our discovery-unless we wished it. But, you might be on to something. Hm. You know, you have nothing on your GoPro? It won’t work out here,” said Ralph. “I made sure of that. Sorry, Ashley.”
            “Are you like the chief or clan leader or something?” said a rather stunned Ashley, who was checking her camera as she spoke.
            “Something like that. Others look to me. I judge baby contests and cut cakes, and stuff like that,” giggled Ralph.
            “Oh, come on, baby contests?” said Ashley.
            “It could happen,” said Ralph.
            “Then I can’t put your structure on YouTube?” she said at last.
            “No. Think about it. We would have the world out here wanting to see it, even if you didn’t disclose its exact location.”
            “That doesn’t sound good,” admitted Ashley.
            “Evermore,” intoned Maeve.
            “It talks too!” said Ashley.
            “She. She speaks English too. She’s a lady Raven. My confidant,” said Ralph.
            “Is this place magic?” whispered Ashley.
            “You could say that,” said Ralph. “It’s like a dream. When you get home you will remember us like a dream, Ashley.” He hummed a little tuneless tune.
            “A dream?” the girl murmured sleepily. Then she began walking toward the Ranger Station where her car waited.
            “I left the meadow ‘open’ when Marge was visiting here, but it’s in the Great Forest now, Birdie,” said Ralph. “If she tries to find it again, it won’t work.”
            “In a way, it’s too bad,” sighed Maeve.
            “Ashley will be alright, Birdie. Let’s go tell Mona all about it!”

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Happy Valentine's Day Open Thread!

 

I hope you receive a 5lb box of Chocolates
and mushy cards from the whole class!

And roses!

With a mushy love song!

💌

Collected Some Other February 13th

            Since, once again, I ran out of time and didn't write anything, I searched through my photos for something to make an open thread with. I came upon these old photos of an Alaska native of some kind and his bear.
            Goodness sakes alive! Look at the beast. No wonder they go gunned up and fear those creatures. Now, I don't know what in the world he could be planning to do with the body. Maybe he got a nice rug from the pelt?

            In this case, it most definitely was a bear! A quite terrifying bear!

            I have always been impressed with the serene look on his face, the man, not the bear. He also looks tired and maybe a little shocky. I read his story but don't remember it, except I think I remember that he didn't go out looking for a bear to shoot. It came upon him.

            What a paw! What a story that must have been, now years ago. I collected the photo in 2004. I think it was a fairly recent story.

🤎

Sleepy Purrsday Greetings

 

Ms. Charley Cat sends her best!

She hopes that your every moment is sweet.

Now.

And always.

Now.

Blessed.

Forever.

Now!

🤍🖤🤍

The Girls vs Cat Food, And Then There is Butter!

 

 

            “Toots! Calling Toots! Are you there, Honey?” said Suzy one night, gazing into the sliding glass door. “It’s been a long time! Are you there?”
            Feeling something on the air, Toots hopped up to her window perch, gazing into the glass. She had to squint pretty good because there was light behind her. “Is that you, Suzy? I have been thinking about you too!” she said. “So what’s up with you? Everything nice and sleepy there?”
            “I have some stuff to tell you. It’s just me and the Fluffbag now. Willie left us. He Went On™, leaving me in charge,” said Suzy, seriously.
            “Well, that’s a step up, but I’m sure you would prefer to be under his paw, of course,” said Toots.
            “I had no idea that being First Cat carried so many responsibilities! It makes my head swim sometimes, Toots.”
            “I quite understand,” said Toots. “First of all is the whole matter of Cat Food. Very serious! One must be so careful not to acquiesce to a substandard food!”
            “I had no idea! I always just let Willie decide which was acceptable on any certain day! It’s hard because a few weeks ago, she got the notion, from a podcast, no less, that what we had eaten since we got here was suddenly ‘bad and dangerous.’
            “Oh, really,” Toots laughed. “We had a little of that here too! ‘Change for the better!’”
            “Well, who’s to decide what’s better? Shouldn’t we be taken into consideration? I’ve had to impose a little discipline! Somebody has to take a hand, er, paw in this. This is just part of it,” said Suzy.
            “It takes nerve and determination to refuse a weird cat food!” agreed Toots. “But there’s no other way!”
            “Then, there’s that whole butter thing! What’s that about?” asked Suzy.
            “It’s that MEOW blog. They all decided that cats love butter. Gotta have it. Well, some do, some don’t. They did it out of an excess of kindness, Sweetie,” said Toots. “Sammie loves the stuff. Not me! But I can’t really complain.”
            “I don’t think any of us wanted butter. Bless their hearts,” Suzy laughed again.
            “The next order of business, my dear, is much more serious even than weird cat food,” whispered Suzy. “She is looking at kittens! I don’t know what to think! What if she loves the kitten or kittens more than she loves me?”
            “Oh, Suzy, Honey, I think we better Purr™ about this. Two things come to mind. One, that she will get the right kittens! Two, that you know, all the way from your whiskers to the tip of your tail, that no kitten will ever replace you! That your spot in the sun and at the dish is secure and permanent!” said Toots.
            “OK,” said Suzy, with a little mew in her voice.
            So, though separated in space, they closed their eyes, bowed their heads and Purred™ until everything was right in their hearts. This kind of faded into a nap, but of course it did. After all, Toots and Suzy are kitties, and kitties sleep a lot.

🧡

Knitting and The Book of Knowledge

 

            I think that it’s useful sometimes to take a look back at how things came to be, to examine one’s own history. It’s easy not to. Maybe it’s just my nature. I like to look at the germ of things. Maybe it’s just to enjoy the contemplation.
            I have thought frequently of early esthetic experiences, or  what looked pretty to my child’s eye. One of the first that I can remember was the ruched, or gathered, red cellophane Christmas rope for the tree that I could see lights through. Beauty, to my mind! Red was my color from the beginning.
            Now, way back in American history, beginning in 1870, there was a children’s encyclopedia published by the Grolier company called The Book of Knowledge. It was an adaptation of a British encyclopedia meant for children. My parents bought a set sometime in the late 1950s from a salesman who came to the door completely cold. It was immediately consumed by me and to some degree by the younger sibs.
            That’s all very well, but what I am getting to is that the germ of my determined and dedicated push to knit started with an illustrated article about knitting in a volume. Typically, it was the drawing that caught me. The simple, but well drawn, illustration made me want to go and do that too. It was the drawing.
            I didn’t have knitting needles of course. No problem. I whittled some out of some kind of wood stock around the place, got some yarn somehow. Probably it was purchased for me. And I began to practice the stiches. I still  have those little sticks in my chest of historical stuff.
            I also became a relentless nuisance to a couple of neighborhood women that I knew and who knew how to knit. I hope they got a little bit of a giggle out of the obsessed kid! I would not be denied, they had knowledge, and I wanted some of that.
            I have always intended, now that it would be no problem, to reproduce the sweater in the illustration. I haven’t done it quite, but I did make a pullover version much like the cardigan in the drawing.
            Why does one kid go nuts for cars, another horses, another skating, or whatever? Well, that’s just it. I think it’s something built in, part of the child’s makeup responding to a fertilizing image or experience.
            No one exactly introduced me to knitting or drawing or painting or sewing, but somehow we found each other!

📕