Let's Just Talk, And Maybe Share A Snack.

 

Sweetie and Suzy share a snack cup quite nicely!

The most open thread there ever was!
Good morning, everyone!

Happy Suzday!

 

🤍

A Chance Meeting in An Unusual Place

 

            Once upon a time, before our time, when the world was much newer, there was a mighty Walker. We may call him Nimson. In the years of his strength he was said, by those who chatter, to be 12 cubits tall. This is a bit of a mystery, but mystery is good for the soul, is it not? It begets humility sometimes.
            This Nimson was an observant and reflective fellow. He spoke little. He watched carefully.
            He had observed several tribes of man, those who live no longer, and also those who have survived until the present day. He had judged them, from afar, to be difficult, restless, and quarrelsome, but also instructive to observe.
            Once this mighty Walker was out doing a bit of hunting, he used a spear by the way. He passed through the forest of his home, relishing the beauty of the tall trees, listening to the songs of the birds, gazing rapt at flowers, feeling the wind moving over the earth. He was so enchanted by it all that he walked on further than usual until the trees gave way to grasslands. He stood for a moment, judging whether to go further into unfamiliar territory, but finally told himself, “Yes, it is good.” So on he went. The grasslands spread out before him, mysterious, and open to the sky.
            There were no trails there, just the endless grass waving languidly in the wind. It was almost hypnotic. Nimson walked on wondering what sort of prey might live in this tall endless grass.
            At last he noticed that though the land appeared to be flat, it was not utterly flat. There were dips and hollows which appeared suddenly when he came upon them. Some had springs of water birthing small streams that wandered off to the next low spot. He was charmed. He stopped and lapped the water, then walked on.
            Night came, and with it a brilliant full moon. He was getting hungry.
            The wind brought Nimson the smell of some kind of smoke. It wasn’t just wood smoke. There was something else in the scent. Something about this scent interested him. It beckoned.
            Then he saw firelight. Realizing that it must be a campsite, he drew silently near.
            There, in the glow of the flames, he saw a woman of the tribe of modern man. She wore a straight garment of tanned leather and long dark hair hung about her shoulders. It was not apparent whether she be mother or maiden. She was alone except for a horse, tied to a bush nearby. This small horse happened to be covered in bundles and such.
            Over the fire, she had laid a large round thing like a shield, he thought. Upon its surface were laid pieces of meat, the source of the strangely scented smoke. Nimson had eaten boars, so he knew pork when he smelled it, but this was more than just pork, there was something different about it.
            He wasn’t afraid of her. He feared nothing. And he was curious.
            Nimson stepped out into the firelight. Before her eyes he stood there impossibly tall, clothed in his own covering of jet black hair, with a face like a man’s, but different somehow. He had amber colored eyes and an inquisitive expression.
            She took him in with a quick glance and then smiled up at him.
            “Are you hungry, Warrior?” she smiled her coyote smile.
            “Perhaps I am, Woman,” he answered, noting the smile.
            “I have meat here, Warrior. Honied, spiced, and smoked boar’s flesh. Will you eat?” said she.
            “I have never eaten meat touched by fire, Woman,” said Nimson. “It smells very good.”
            “Sit, and I will serve you,” she said, edging close and gazing boldly up into his face.
            Nimson sat on the trampled grass near the fire. The woman fished some pieces of meat off of the metal object, laid them on a flat wooden vessel of some sort and then she laid the plate, for of course it was a plate, near him where he sat cross-legged on the trampled grass.
            “Warrior, if you will come with me and be my love, and live among my people, you shall have meat such as this every day. Together with you, I will rule over the lives of men and women, for you are very powerful!” said the dark haired woman with intense, shining eyes of pale blue.
            Nimson laughed and rose to his feet once more, without touching the cooked meat waiting for him on the wooden plate on the grass.
            Fasting, he left her there, walking back into the moonlit tall grass, following his own trail toward his home in the forest. He stopped at the spring again and drank.
            He stood then, wiped the excess water off of his face, looked up at the moon, tucked his spear under his left arm and walked again.
            Once, as he walked, he snorted derisively.

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F'lineday Lazy Open Thread for April 10!

 

            Most of what goes on around here lately looks a lot like this. The little creatures are growing quickly. They are still the kindest, most affectionate kittens I have ever met. Still amazed.

            The one on top of Dad's old piano is Sweetie. He is well named. He is the most involved and the most playful. He gets into the most mischief too.

            The one in the window, stretching his long stripy legs, is Booker. He is more observant and less likely to be the first to start something. He sleeps more. He is the one who is often in my chair before I can get to it.

            Anyhow, I didn't get around to writing anything yesterday. 

            It's always a pleasure to read anything you care to write! As always, feel free to opine!

🌸

A Sweet Homecoming

 

            

            Twigg’s first thought on the morning of their first day home, before he had opened his eyes, was that the sun must be up because he heard humming from outside of the Alder Tree House. He smiled. Then memory flooded back.
            “Oh!” He sat up suddenly. There was Leely, nestled in with Koba, beside him. They slept on. The humming beckoned him to come outside. So, he carefully laid aside the wonderful quilt made by Mak’s palace seamstresses, and being careful to move silently, he opened the door and stepped out into the morning.
            Tears filled Twigg’s sweet eyes. He was so glad to be back in the meadow, the same meadow where he and Marge had met, part of the Great Forest of his home. But, he was smiling too because he was surrounded by hundreds of B’s all buzzing their jubilant greetings.
            “Morning blessings, B’s,” he called in the Old Language of the forest.
            The dew was just drying off of the grass and fireweed blossom, and blackberry blooms. An entrancing scent filled the air, the scent of summer in the Great Forest. Twigg breathed deeply, and sighed. He looked at the sky; there were no clouds. It would be a hot day. The sun was just peeking through the tops of the Douglas firs.
            A breath of wind came to pay a quick visit with the prince of the forest. Twigg raised his arms to acknowledge its passing. Content, the wind passed on.
            He wandered out into the deep grass, found a stand of fireweed, being worked by the B’s, apologized for disturbing their labors, and picked one of the stalks. It was the very spirit of summer in the meadow.
             He was heading back to Leely when he saw the red door open. There stood Leely with Koba in her arms.
            “Morning blessing, Dear Love,” Leely said in correct Saslingua. It came easily to her, and she was picking up a bit of it in passing. She wore a simple dress made of a fabric quite like cotton by the palace seamstresses. It was grassy green and unornamented. Her dark hair hung long around her shoulders. She smiled.
            “I bless thee,” he returned, likewise, then grinned. “Look, Leely, we’re home. They don’t have fireweed on Ord, do they?”    
            “I didn’t see any,” she said. She took the stalk of pink flowers, and handed Koba to his father. The child woke then and looked around at his mother and father, and the world all around him. Of course, he didn’t speak yet, but he never cried either. He was just old enough to hold his head up and focus well on his surroundings. Koba smiled.
            “What shall we do today?” asked Leely.
            “My father will come later, and we will go fishing or maybe hunting. There are no palace cooks for us here, my love,” said Twigg.
            “There are some nice things left from yesterday’s feast. We should eat,” said Leely.
            Their breakfast was made of rolls of rich bread, a sort of butter, berries, and a cup of that very light bubbly wine. All the fruits or Ord, Mak’s home planet.
            As they sat inside the Alder Tree House with the door left open so they could see the meadow outside, Leely said, “I’m so thankful to be back, Twigg. It was an adventure like no other, but I am eager to be truly your Fire Keeper.”
            “And so you shall,” said Twigg. “For you do all things well, and are full of wisdom.”
            Leely blushed, because praise was new to her.
            They took Koba out for a tour around the meadow, showing him each flower, each bush, and the Gifting Stump, until he was tired and needed to go back for a nap.
            Later in the morning, Ralph appeared accompanied by Bob and Berry. He carried a bag.
            Ralph stepped inside to see Leely and Koba, who was still sleeping in his little basket bed.
            “Shall we go fishing?” Ralph asked his son. “Ramona likes trout, even more than turkey or venison. Maybe Leely would like some trout too.”
            “Of course she would,” agreed Twigg.
            “Yes, I would!” said Leely.
            Berry and Bob were so happy to see their old playmate, that they head butted him over and over. They smiled their secret cat smiles, and their golden eyes glowed happily.
            When Ralph and Twigg had set off together, Leely was just considering whether she should take Koba to visit Ramona, when that lady, and Cherry, came to see them instead.
            Ralph and Twigg remembered to fetch some firewood for Leely, so that she could actually cook. Ralph, Ramona, and Cherry stayed for dinner.
            All in all, it was a perfect first day home.

🤍🌿🤍

A Trip to The MEWN!

 

            The girls had been hearing a lot of talk lately about an important trip to the “moon.” So naturally they were very excited. Toots had the great idea first, but then, Suzy agreed immediately!
            “Hey, Suz!” Toots sent, “Let’s go to the MEWN! D’ya wanna? I sure do!”
            “Can we do that?” asked Suzy, dubiously.
            “Sure! NASA did it, didn’t they? So, we can just as well!” said Toots, jubilantly.
            “How will we do it?” said Suzy.
            “We’ll just be points of vision, Suz! Like always! The same way we do everything else!” said Toots.
            “OK! That doesn’t sound too scary. Nothing bad can happen to a point of vision, right?” said Suzy.
            “Purrfectly safe! But let’s skip the flying TO the MEWN part, ‘cuz that’s boring! Let’s just do the MEWN part! OK?” said Toots. “I bet it wouldn’t take us four or five days to get there, but still, boring!”
            “I’m ready!” said Suzy.
            “Now, concentrate, Suzy, as hard as you can! We can do this! Let’s just Be There Now!” purred Toots.
            There was a five second pause.
            “Shall we do a countdown?” said Suzy.
            “Nah! We’re already there! Look! What do you see, Suz?” said Toots, in total awe.
            “I see bright light! Craters and mountains! The MEWN is silver, Toots!” said Suzy. “Ow, my eyes! It’s so bright out here!”
            “OK! Let’s go around to the dark side! How about it?” whispered Toots.
            In just a few seconds, the girls were over the back of the MEWN. No cat had ever been there before!
            “Toots, it’s so dark! I can’t see anything!” said Suzy.
            “Well, give your point of vision a minute to adjust to the dark, Suzy,” said Toots. “It won’t take long!”
            “Oh, you’re right,” said Suzy. “I see more craters and mountains! Wait! Do you see that thing there? Oh my, there are lots of them! Toots, what are those things? Did we discover something?”
            “We did, Suzy! Those look like towers of some kind! We need to tell the world about this! There are towers hiding on the back of the MEWN!” said Toots.
            “I wonder if anybody is home?” said Suzy. “Maybe we should check, before we go telling the world?”
            “Oh, yes! Let’s get in closer. Maybe someone is there!” said Toots.
            “I don’t see how anyone could live here. There’s no air,” said Suzy.
            “Maybe they make air in those towers?” said Toots.
            There was another pause as the girls adjusted their viewpoints to ground level.
            “These are funny buildings. They look like they grew here,” said Suzy.
            “They look like they are made of MEWN dust,” said Toots.
            “I wonder how they did that?” wondered Suzy. “I also wonder where the people who made them are!”
            “Maybe we can’t see them,” said Toots. “Maybe they are watching us right now!”
            Just then a vivid red sphere of light appeared outside the first floor of the tower. It seemed to search around as if it sensed a foreign presence in the area. At last, it steadied and slowly approached the girls’ location.
            “There’s no place like home!” yowled Suzy, in a rush.
            “Take me home, country road!” sang Toots!
 
            And just like that, Toots and Suzy were back in their respective homes. Safe and dry! Toots was at her window station. Suzy was down under the old piano bench.
            “Wow, Toots!” said Suzy.
            “Far OUT!” said Toots!
            Far overhead, the MEWN smiled down on the intrepid girls, and all was well.

🌒😹😻🌔

In Which Uncle Mr. Baby Sir Has His Own Say

 

            Mr. Baby is a gentleman cat who for the most part keeps himself to himself. But, mysterious as that is, and very effective, I thought it only fair to interview him. He doesn’t come up on the desk to talk, so I  had to go to him!
            I located that gentleman on the back porch, basking in our rare sunshine.
            “Hey, Baby,” I said, because in conversation that is how one addressed him.
            “Oh, hi, Mother,” he said, coming up to a sitting position. He calls me that because I am “Her” mother. It’s confusing, so I explain.
            “I was wondering if I could ask your opinion on a few things,” I said. I took a seat on the single step out there between the kitchen and the porch so we would be on the same level.
            “Sure. That would be fine. Ask away!” he said.
            “OK. First, where are you from? Do you have a first memory?”
            “I’m not sure. It’s hazy. There was a mother, I know that. But the strongest early memory I have is one of being in a small cage in a building with other cats. I heard barking often, so there must have been a room for dogs too.
            “There was nothing in this cage, but a water dish, a dish for kibble, and a very small litter tray. That’s it! I didn’t like it and I called for help night and day! I never gave up. Mrr! The trolls who maintained this dungeon took no pity on me! In fact, my pitiful cries angered them.
            “But, at last, She, and Child, came to my rescue! She took me out of that cage and brought me home. I love her,” he said.
            “I can see why,” I said. “So, what’s the next best thing in your life?”
            “Oh, riding in her car! For sure! Then we would get out and go for long walks. Charley was there too. I saw places most cats never see. We went to beaches, forests, parks, and everything!”
            “So, how did you end up here,” I asked him. He frowned a little, maybe in regret.
            “Oh, Mother, I liked to go on little expeditions by myself. Naturally. They got tired of waiting for me to come back,” he admitted.
            “Oh, Baby, why did you do it?” I said.
            “I couldn’t help myself,” he said slowly. “If they left the RV door open, why, I just zoomed out into the wild world. Ah, the glory of it!”
            “I understand how you might feel that way,” I said. “Well, what are the best and worst things about living here for a while?”
            “Let me think, Mother. Um, Mrrr, the worst thing is that I can’t go outside,” he said.
            “Do you know why that is,” I asked him.
            “It doesn't make sense to me. So, tell me,” said Mr. Baby.
            “Mostly, it’s because of the traffic. Many cats have died on city streets, and She doesn’t want you to die that way. I am keeping you safe until she can come and pick you up. I’m sorry, Baby. This summer things will be better for you,” I told him.
            “The good things? Everyone is kind to me, the food is regular and plentiful, clean water, a great big litter box, kept nice and clean,” he said. “Thank you for that.”
            “Oh, you’re welcome. We want you to be comfortable! Say, what’s the funniest, or craziest thing about your life these days,” I asked him, trying to lighten things up a little.
            “The kittens. No doubt about it. Funny and crazy are two good words for those two! I guess they think I am a toy! Or, maybe I’m hunting practice. Have you seen what they do?” he asked.
            “I have,” I said, laughing a little. “I believe you are a living toy, or kind of an uncle to them. You are probably teaching them things by the way you interact with them. It’s mysterious cat stuff, which I can only guess at.”
            “They are so slick, so fancy! I’ve never met kittens like them before,” he said. “But, they are sweet too. They don’t have a mean whisker between them. I guess I don’t mind if they want to chase my tail. I only run and cry out, Mrr, Mrr, to give them a thrill.”
            “That’s about what I thought. I didn’t think you were really afraid of either Booker or Sweetie. I think Sweetie is the one who chases you the most,” I giggled.
            “But I don’t understand their names, they don’t seem like regular cat names,” he said.
            “How about your name? Here you are, a big grown up tomcat named Mr. Baby Sir! How about that? Come on!” I was giggling again.
            “She can call me whatever she wants, Mother! I don’t care how silly it is! If She did it, it’s fine with me. I’ll deal with it!” he said. “I just tell cats I don’t know that my name is Spike!”
            “Suzy says your name is Fluffbag! Toots calls you that too!” I laughed. “In fact, I think Suzy is in love with you!”
            “Oh, help! Mrrrr! Mrrrr! Mrrrr!” he said, and just like that he went back into hiding.
            That big old Baby!
            I guessed that the interview was over!

💘

Advice To Squatch Hunters From Ralph, Himself

 

 
            Look, in case any of you sensible people know anyone who likes to go out into the forest looking to meet up with one of us, there are a couple of things you could tell them. It might not do any good, if they are really determined. I know it gets right in under their skin; oh I know it. But you can try.
            No. 1. Your standard Forest Giant doesn’t understand your curiosity. He finds undue nosiness, in humans, to be a moral failing. Not the most regrettable, but cringe worthy. If it didn’t annoy him so much to be hunted like a bear, as if, he would be embarrassed for you. Stop! You’re acting like a goof. You might be waking the babies, or scaring the girls.
            No. 2. You people are painfully easy to locate. You’re noisy, and smell weird. Your clothing and gear are astounding. Talk about gilding a lily, or maybe something about a pig’s ear. Doesn’t matter. If we want you to see us, you will see us!
            We’re hard to miss, if we want to make a point.
            OTOH, if you see a white deer or something that keeps hanging around. It could be one of us messing around. Maybe. Maybe not.
            He doesn’t find his own curiosity to be a failing. It makes perfect sense to him. Just the way it is. You guys are very entertaining.
            No. 3. Our general stance is not hostile. However, you gotta understand that our lives are about us. I think maybe humans and Forest Keepers inhabit two loosely related universes. Something like that, maybe. Anyhow, disturbances like people running through the woods with electronic gadgets, which make our ears ring, by the way, might get you some hostile blow back.

            By the way, hey listen. Don't throw things at any Hairy Bro. Their natural impulse would be to throw it back, or something even bigger! Their aim is exquisite too!

            Shooting is even stupider! You will just piss the guy off. Chances of your killing him are vanishingly slim. Don't do it! Run, scream, faint, whatever. Just don't shoot at a Forest Keeper, male or female.  Fun times in the forest will be over, and you might not survive.
            No. 4. If everything gets real quiet and you feel hinky, leave. Friendly encounters chosen by one us don’t feel hinky. We can make you feel that. It’s by way of a caution.
            No. 5. The best way to meet once of us is to provide an invitation. Act normal. Have music, cooking, a fire, (we like fires), don’t be so damn needy. Fun is very attractive.
            No. 6. There is some stuff you don’t get to know. Don’t ask me about orbs, aliens, little people, or any of that. Everything you guys guess is wrong.
            No. 7. This advice is mine. If you asked York or one of those deep woods guys, you might get different answers.
            I hope that helps. If it keeps somebody from being bluff charged and scared silly, my work will have been done here.
            Ramona and I wish you well, and I’m pretty sure she’s done frying all those sweet little trout I brought her, so I will skedaddle for now. See you later!

🤍🍀🤍