🍁Going Home Alone🍂

 

            Eventually, Maurice’s things dried beside the fire. He had eaten with Ralph and family, both breakfast and dinner, and it seemed like the only thing left to do was return to the scene. It was time to go home. It was just like getting back up on the horse. Best to be done before he got a chance to let fear set in.
            The problem was solved; he told himself. “Right!” he thought.
            When he put his book back in the bag,  it made him think of Sleeky Sue, and suddenly he missed her very much. He thought about writing her a letter, while remembering their meeting in the freight car, and how kind the tiny creature had been to him. Another tear fell down his long nose.
            He thought that was pretty wet for a tough guy like himself, so to settle his nerves he started working on a tune. But it came out sounding like train music. Maybe this tune was for Sneaky herself.
            “Firekeeper, Ramona, do you have an old pen or pencil I could use?” said Maurice, since he hadn’t been able to find his for a few days.
            “I do! And it won’t do me any good. I can’t write, Maurice. Just keep it,” said Ramona, coming back from the shelf in the cave where she kept a few things that came her way. It was an old yellow Bic pen.
            “Thanks,” he said, still thinking about writing a letter and wondering how to send it.
            “Time for me to go home, and tonight I will lock the door,” he added.
            “Oh, good idea,” said Ralph. “You don’t want to wake up with the place full of nosy rabbits or turkeys!”
            “Yeah, I don’t really expect anybody,” said Maurice.
            But Maurice was still a little nervous. He remembered it all too well, and the awful feeling of helplessness. A True Howler really doesn’t like feeling helpless. He felt a growl coming up from his heart.
            Nevertheless, he started the evening walk to the old farmhouse where no one had lived for many years, and he now thought of as home. He trotted past Ralph’s big log and up into the big meadow. He wasn’t that familiar with the old stump where Twigg and Marge had met, but pass it  he did. He kept going, noting the Alder Tree House as he passed. The farmhouse was closer to town on an old unused dirt road.
            Fall was coming and the days were getting shorter. Soon he saw the moon rising, and a few stars even though there was a sheer layer of cloud way up high  over the forest and the meadow. He, with his fantastically sharp hearing, heard a few exhausted leaves fall on to the grass and settle there. The wind came by, shaking a few more of them down.
            It was dark, and he felt alone suddenly. A new sensation. It was the last in a long series of revelations. He’d never noticed it before. Maurice shivered.
            To cheer himself along he began playing a song he called Going Home Alone In The Dark. He wondered what kind of lyrics Bob might put to it, and had to laugh. You never knew with Bob. He was a true natural, and knew nothing of convention. His sweet heart was as pure and simple as sunlight on flowers.
            Just as he was thinking about lyrics, Maurice heard a voice in the distance. A beautiful voice. He was so astounded that he stopped his tune to listen. The voice stopped too!
            “What!” Maurice said aloud, standing there under the moon. No one answered. So he started up again, walking and playing the going home song.
            She began to sing with him again. He began to discern words! She was singing lyrics with him, totally off the cuff! It was dreamlike. Unbelievable. Miraculous!
            Her soprano was clear as a bell and very carrying. It came to him under the moon, and over the meadow. Straight as an arrow.
 
            You’re not alone.
            Not alone.
            In the night, in the dark.
            Your heart is  heard,
            loudly, clearly.
            Come be a warm night.
            I will be the moon…
           
            To say that he was intrigued is to mince words. To say that he was smitten it to state the obvious.
            “Who are you? Where are you?” he called, but got no answer.
            He found the old dirt road and followed it to the old farmhouse. He didn’t even especially note the scene of the incident with the grey witch. Moonlight shone over everything and a couple of stars blinked through the haze.
            “We’ll meet, I know it,” he told the night, and went on indoors.   

   

  🍁🌔🍁

Morning Greetings From SuzieQ, August 28, 2026

             She was really sticking close today, so I figured that she had something to say.

            So, I asked her, "What's on your mind today, Suzie?"

            "I was resting under your desk today, and both of them were out there! Looking at me. It makes me nervous," she said.

            "You know, if you don't run, they won't chase. You're a cat too. You should know that," I said.

            "I have a hard time remembering that with all those eyes looking at me. I know what it feels like to chase, and it's a pretty compelling urge," she admitted. "Anyhow, that's a photo of me five years ago. I was more orange then!"

            "Orange and green are a pretty good color combination. You should be proud to be orange with green eyes. I think a lot of people would like to be so pretty!" I said.

            "Aw, thanks. Really I just wanted to tell the readers 'Good Morning!' and say 'Prrrrt!' to my cat friends. It's been wonderful getting to know Toots, Sammie, Buddy, Serena, if she would talk more! I even miss the Fluffbag, even though he's not my Boyfren! I even miss Ms. Charley, but I know she doesn't miss me! Funny kid!" said Suzie.

            "What about Booker and Sweetie," I urged. 

            "How can I miss them? They're right here, all of the time! But yeah, them too."

            "Anything else?" I asked her.

            "I notice that the days are getting shorter. Soon it will be fall and pumpkin flavored everything!" she said.

            "That's true. Do you want a pumpkin this year. You'd match almost!" I said.

            "Yeah, I think so. But hey, Toots, where do you want to go next?" she laughed.

            "I'm sure she'll let you know," I said, before she wandered off to sit on the back of the recliner.

            So, good morning, all! Best of F'linedays to you! 

🎃

            

Just Rollin' and Tumblin' in the Upper Atmosphere!

             Since nothing else was going on, the girls decided to take a little fieldtrip. 

            "Toots!" said Suzie, "How about a little jaunt?"

            "Whatcha got in mind, SuzieQ?" quoth Toots agreeably.

            "Oh, just bouncing around the upper atmosphere!" said Suzie. "It's just an open thread day, and a Purrsday™! I think we should!"

            "Oooo! The Lionosphere! What a spiffy idea!" said Toots. "Let's go!"

So!

That's what they did!

            "What a nice way to spend Purrsday, Suzie. Just bouncing here and there through the upper air. I wish everybody who reads about us was up here too!" said Toots.

            "I do too! Can you imagine everyone dodging satellites, getting a really good look at our planet!" said Suzie. 

            "I'm sure they'd get a kick out of it!" said Toots.

The best of Purrsday™ to you!

May it be a day of lightness and happiness!

Fall is coming!

💙

A Little Back Story

 

            For a while the family, and Maurice, just ate their oatmeal silently, letting the morning come on in its own time. Ramona felt especially sad for Maurice. She thought he could use a while to settle his mind after the morning’s ordeal.
            He had laid his bag, his harmonica, and his book out on a log by the fire to dry. It had all gotten soaked while he was standing in the rain that early morning. A tear still ran down his shaggy snout from time to time. It embarrassed him, but it happened a few times.
            Finally, Ralph said, “Why you, Maurice? Why not Uncle Bob, or anybody else?”
            “I’ve been trying to figure that out, Ralph. I’m looking for a connection,” said Maurice.
            “I don’t believe there is a connection,” said Ramona. “This is what I think. Evil is very jealous. Evil hates beauty. We know that.
            “The witch was attracted to the music in the meadow. She must have noticed you, I mean there you were up on top of the Stump House playing your beautiful blues! She kept watching. I don’t know how they do that, but they seem to be watching.
            “Now, everyone else went home with someone else. Every last one of them, even Bob was with Suzy. But you were alone,” said Ramona. “I think that’s all it was. Somewhere it says a twofold cord is not easily broken, or something like that.”
            “When did you first sense that something was wrong?” Ramona continued.
            “I woke because I knew someone was in the room with me. I saw the ugly thing crouched on her heels like a gargoyle reading my book!” cried Maurice.
            “Oh!! There you go! She was feasting on your heart! That’s it,,” said Ralph, sitting up straight suddenly.
            “She said she owned me and I  had to obey her now,” said Maurice. “Because she read my book and she knew me!”
            “Oh, that’s a lie! Evil always lies!’ said Ramona. “You must have believed her, or she couldn’t have made you do anything!”
            “Well, she woke me up and scared me! I thought she might eat me!” said Maurice. “I thought playing some music might save my life, maybe? I didn’t know what was going on, Firekeeper Ramona!”
            “I’m not sure what I would have done either, Maurice. What a horrible experience. I’m pretty sure you won’t see her again,” said Ramona, and she laughed a little.
            For the first time that morning, Maurice laughed too. “Hey, Ralph, when did you figure out that naming thing?”
            Ramona stood up to collect the bowls and spoons, and got the three of them a cup of coffee for dessert. Cherry sat by listening carefully to the conversation sipping on some warm water with some berries floating in it, a favorite of hers.
            “That’s an old story. I was very young, but out on my own. I didn’t know any human people yet, and really had only heard some of their language while I was kind of listening to them talk. When they didn’t know I was around, right? I had fun repeating what I heard and some of it stuck.
            “I didn’t start naming on purpose. I discovered it this way.
            “I found a small naked child alone in the forest. It was a girl. Using our language I tried asking where her parents were. She didn’t answer. I thought maybe I better try the local human speech. I tried it, not very well, I’m sure. She didn’t answer. In fact I don’t think she had ever spoken. But she was human, though I’d never seen a kid so dirty and uncared for. She had never had a haircut, her nails were long and broken, she was too skinny, and smelled like she was starving. There is a smell to that.
            “I didn’t know what to do. But I was still trying out words on her. So I said “apple,” and she lit up like a star and said, “apple” back at me. She kept saying “apple.” Finally I realized that I had named her.
            “I took her to the ranger station, way before Rick worked there, of course. I put her on the step in front of the door, knocked real loud, and vanished of course. The old ranger opened the door and the kid said “Apple,” nice and loud.
            “There was some excitement with police and whoever gets called in a case like that, but through it all the kid kept saying “Apple.”
            “I hope somebody gave her an apple,” said Maurice.
            “Oh, I think so,” said Ralph, “but somewhere there is woman named Apple who probably had to pick her own last name and doesn’t remember her parents.
            “It was the strangest thing. She became Apple right in front of my eyes,” said Ralph.

💚

"Lions, and Tigers, and Bears, Oh my!"

 

Mr. Baby Sir, local heartthrob! 

❤️

 
            It was a lazy hot afternoon, but the girls were TeleMrrrping™ anyhow, because there is always something to Mrrrp about, rain or shine!

❤️

            “So, Suzy, where’s your boyfriend? You haven’t mentioned him lately,” said Toots, from her HeatHibernation™ station.
            “He’s not my boyfriend!” yelled Suzy.
            “Where is he?” coaxed Toots.
            “If you mean the Fluffbag, he's visiting the Grand Daughter’s cats. What a hobo!” miffed Suzy.
            “Miss him, do ya? Well, I don’t blame you. He makes the rounds, like a pro of some kind!” said Toots admiringly.
            “He could just as well be your boyfriend, Toots,” giggled Suzy. “I think you admire him!”
            “Pffft!” hissed Toots. “I don’t need another one! I can’t get rid of Murphy, out in the yard all the time!”
            “So, what do you think of those cats in the alley in NYC, Toots?” said Suzy, deftly changing the subject.
            “What a bunch of rubes! I thought Big Apple cats would be wily and cagey. But no! They fell for the silliest game in the books. A fake pirate map by someone called Chucky Cheese? Come on!” said Toots.
            “I bet the Bengal Brats would go for it too! Tail chasers. They get on my last nerve! I’m not a toy,” said Suzy. “I’m a dignified, mature lady cat, fer Pete’s sake!”
            “No doubt!” Toots laughed.
                        “So. See anything out the window last night? I mean, besides Murphy? Anything suspicious?” said Suzy, eyes squinted, and fangs exposed, anticipatorily.
            “Shhhh!, Honey! I don’t like to say much. I can’t say I did or didn’t see anything, since, well, I was in my redoubt. But. I heard things. Weird things. Night birds calling! Owls! Fell harbingers, I say, Suzy!
            “I think I  heard that woman down at the creek, the one that yells at night. I don’t know what she’s got to yell about,” said Toots.
            “Maybe she dropped her phone in the creek!” said Suzy. “That would make any woman yell!”
            “Suzy. I see why she calls you Snoozy. Good grief, girl,” said Toots.
            “Who told?” said Suzy. “Was it Mr. Baby?”
            “TTYS!” said Toots, laughing again.
            “Just wait until he shows up again!” said Suzy.
            “No doubt,” said Toots, yawning and dropping off to sleep. It was so warm both out and in.
            “I wonder why the title of this thing mentions bears?” thought Suzy. “Maybe Toots heard a bear down by the creek!”

🍁💚🍁

The Next Day Was Completely Different

 

            One of the neat things about a Great Forest Music Festival is the relative lack of any sign that there had even been a festival on the “grounds.” Forest Keepers don’t leave trash, even if they had any to leave, and their human friends had taken the Coke cans back with themselves when they went home. Only some wax paper from the ham on rye sandwiches lay on the ground, with the wind moving it around a little.
            The next day dawned gray and there was a ghost of a chill in the air, when Aunt Suzy got up early to feed the fire. She picked up the sandwich wrappers and added them to the fire. Then all was as before, except for the change in weather.
            It had rained a little before dawn. Ralph’s dark blue cloud and little lights had disappeared during the night, to be replaced by normal light gray haze up high.
            Uncle Bob was still sleeping, after his big day.
            Nobody wondered where Maurice was.
            Down at her own fire, Ramona was also up and starting her day. Bob and Berry woke when she did and were out hunting somewhere. Cherry and Blue, and Ralph slept on.
            Ramona was noticing the change in the weather too. She knew the sun would shine again, but that fall was really coming. It started raining. Little puffs of steam fizzed up from the coals of her fire. It seemed like an oatmeal kind of day. She had no leftover meat, or soup.
            While she was planning, a familiar presence made herself known. It was Maeve, of course. She drifted silently down out of the rainy sky, and landed beside the fire on one of those logs.
            “Looks like fall is coming,” said Ramona, almost to herself.
            “Soon,” agreed Maeve.
            “I guess I’ll make oatmeal,” said Ramona, still thinking.
            “I need to talk to Ralph, Ramona. Something isn’t right,” said Maeve.
            “What did you see? What kind of not right? Are you sure?” said that lady.
            “It’s weird and hard to explain. Maurice is outside his old farmhouse playing his tunes, but something is there with him. It’s not a person, or an animal, or any of you all, in fact I don’t know what it is, and it’s singing the songs from the concert yesterday,” said Maeve, looking worried.
            “That doesn’t sound too bad,” said Ramona. “I’ve been humming the songs too!”
            “Oh, I know, but you oughta see this whatever,” said Maeve. “OK, listen. It has wings, gray wings, and it’s not a bird! It has long grey hair and it’s not a woman or a man! It’s nearly as tall as Ralph, Honey, and Maurice looks scared out of his hairy mind!” insisted Maeve. “I better talk to Ralph.”
            “You’re right,” but just as she turned to go wake him, he appeared, yawning.
            “What’s up out here? Something is not right, I know it,” said Ralph, looking from Ramona to Maeve and back to Ramona.
            So, Maeve filed her report with Ralph, mentioning a few other details, such as the fact that Maurice seemed to be under some kind of compulsion to stand out in the rain and make music for this creature to sing to, and that it had burning green eyes like little green fires.
            “That’s not good,” said Ralph. “Fire eyes are never good! Maybe I better go see who goes there!”
            When Ralph and Maeve arrived at Maurice’s hideaway, they found that all she had said was true. The small abandoned farmhouse stood forlorn in the rain. Its door hung open. Overgrown fruit trees crowded close around. No light shone in the window; no smoke rose from the crooked small chimney.
            Maurice stood in front playing his tunes with desperation in his eyes, and rain running down his snout onto his beloved harmonica. His bag lay on the ground, empty.
            The ghastly creature cavorted, spreading its wings, and singing horrible distortions of yesterday’s songs to Maurice’s own tunes. Her, for it was some sort of femme thing, green eyes glowed in the dim morning light.
 
            You’ll All Fall In!
            I’ll make sure you do!
            But it won’t be a picnic!
            Not for you!
            Etc, etc..
 
            “Ew,” said Ralph, “This thing is no poet!”    
            “Make it stop, Boss!” cried Maeve.
           
            You’re Ugly And Your Mom Hated You! The witch sang in a voice like a choir of Banshees. She was waving Maurice’s red Allegory book around as she whirled, laughing and making up rude rhymes.
 
            “Stop witch,” said Ralph. “Say your name!”
            “Make me!” sang the witch, mid-cavort.
            “Say it, or I will say it, and you don’t want that!” said Ralph. Maurice played on as if  he  couldn’t stop or help himself.
            “You don’t know my name, Pigface!” laughed the dancing witch.
            “Dwollop Leer!” said Ralph, loudly.
            She stopped and looked at him with hate filled burning eyes.
            “What is the nature of your power over Maurice?” said Ralph.
            “I won’t tell you, Pig-arse!” Dwollop Leer screamed.
            “Give him back his book, or I’ll say your name again,” said Ralph.
            The witch seemed to become insubstantial, standing in the rain, wings folded, bitterly hissing, but she gave the book to Maurice, handing it over with a hand no more solid than heavy fog.
            Maurice was instantly released, and weeping, he put his book and his harmonica back in his bag, and put it on his waist again.
            “No devil or witch can live here, Dwollop Leer!” said Ralph, and it was so, because he said it was so, and she was no more. Not even a flash of green or a smokey wing remained.
            “Maurice why don’t you come home with me and Maeve and dry your things? Mona is making a bunch of oatmeal, and you  look like a Howler who needs some hot food,” said Ralph.
            Maurice wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded.
            “How did she get your book?”
            “She just walked into the old house, singing those awful verses, rifled through my bag and took it! I wasn’t wearing it, I was sleeping,” said Maurice.
            “She must have sensed the value that it has to you,” said Ralph.
            “How did you know her name?” asked Maurice, in wonder.
            “Oh, I didn’t! I named her right then and there, and since I have the gift, it became her name! There wasn’t a thing she could do about it!” laughed Ralph. “Pretty neat trick, huh?
            “You amaze me,” murmured Maurice, as they all set off to have some oatmeal for breakfast. “Thank you, Ralph.”
            “Of course,” said Ralph, cheerfully.
            “Nothing really surprises me,” said Maeve, from her perch on his shoulder, “But that was one for the books.”
            It wasn’t a really lasting rain storm, after all. The sun came back out, and it was like late summer again. Steam was in the air as everything dried off, and the clouds blew off toward the Sound.

🍁📕🍁

💮 Break Day Open Thread!💮

             It was August 25, 2022. It's a view of Port Gardner Bay, Everett, WA. 

            I like this photograph because of the reflections on the nearly completely flat water. Look at the smoke rising out of the Amazon warehouse down there. 

            What you see across the water is Tulalip, and the passage out to the Pacific Ocean at large.

            You just know that one gull who is all hunched up is probably making a lot of noise!

            It was just a quiet summer day.

            Likewise, I hope anyone who sees this has a perfect late summer day, and that fall comes quickly, with its cooler weather.

           🍁 💙🍁