Courage For Cats

 

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        “You know, Toots, one of the things that I have to deal with around here, here in the house even, are the various threats,” mused Suzy. “You know how it is, a person who has seemed to be a friend will suddenly loom overhead and it’s battle stations!”

          “Oh, I agree,” messaged Toots. “One of my main disciplines is trying to remember that my gentleman has never done me a lick of harm!  But it’s hard. It goes against the grain. It’s not natural to be all ‘whatever’.”

          They both appeared to be napping. Yet, they were putting their hearts together on this issue of fear and courage.

          “The way I try to show courage,” added Suzy, “is by visiting my lady while she is sleeping or writing, whatever that is, she keeps saying that’s what she’s doing, but I think it might be just an excuse to keep me from walking on her arms.

          “While she or he, isn’t being scary I climb all over them. This is to teach me bravery.  I do it on purpose.”

          “It’s hard to change our basic nature, that which caused the coinage of the phrase ‘scaredy cat.’ I just about can’t sit still if he moves suddenly. But then, he will show up with treats and the right hairbrush and I melt.  I can’t help it,” sent Toots.

          “You know, Suzy, I think if we try we can get onto the wavelength of the Whole Deal Out There, and since they never actually do anything really really bad to us, except maybe some claw clipping sometimes, which I would hate, if he did it, and deal with some of this panic. What do you think dear?”

          “Well, OK, Toots, maybe it’s time for a Power-Purr™ for courage,” agreed Suzy. “I’m tired of being a scaredy cat, that’s true. It wears on ya, you know?”

          So, though it was not natural to be brave, they settled down for the night purring deeply in a sort of cat prayer, together. And the Whole Deal in All visited the two little petitioners.

          I suspect that we will have to wait to see how it works out in their every day lives. These  heart changes take time and application.  But it’s good to know that they are willing to have courage!  That’s the first step.

Speaking of steps!!

One Day In Spring

 

         Colin M. Kelly liked to be outdoors. He lived alone, but he still liked to keep a little garden. So, one day in April when it wasn’t too windy and the sun was shining in a hopeful manner on his little plot, he was out there with a spade turning over the soil.  He was proud of his soil.  He had worked to make it nice. It was full of compost and big pink earthworms.

            Standing there, looking pleased at his work, like any gardener, with the sun warming his curls and in a meditative mood, he began to notice something unusual. He thought some words, or “heard” some words, which did not originate from his own though processes.
            “How about Saturday, in the afternoon? Will you and Millicent come have dinner with us?” It took a minute for him to remember Ralph promising him that he would get a message in a few months. Colin was a little surprised that Ralph would make reference to a day of the week, but he supposed it went with speaking English to people like himself.
            Colin wasn’t sure how to go about answering this invitation, but finally decided that the only way that made sense was to think his answer as firmly as he could, directing it to Ralph in his mind. It worked.
            “Yes,” he said, “ I will come for sure. I will ask Millicent too. I expect that she will want to be there.”
            “Good,” said Ralph, like a sort of bee in Colin’s bonnet, so to speak. “When you drive out, go down the highway until you get to that wide dirt pullout there at about the right area. I’m sure you know it. I will meet you there and walk you in. Midafternoon. I’ll know when you get there.” And that was the end of the transmission.
            He worked for another hour, got the soil spaded, and went into his house, to warm up and make a little lunch. Tomato soup and grilled cheese, good old kid food.
            While he was sitting at his table he phoned Millicent at work at the paper. As he had suspected she was pretty excited to get another visit with Ralph and entourage. He told her he would pick her up at her apartment just after noon on Saturday in his county vehicle.
            So, that Saturday he gassed up the big SUV, at the local Chevron and drove into town from the ‘burbs to pick of Millicent. He parked on her street and texted, “I’m out here, ‘on the street where you live’!” She texted back, “ready or not, here I come,” and popped out of the building’s main door.
            There she was, dressed for a forest visit. Jeans, boots, olive sweater to go with her complexion and black curls, black puffer coat and a nice handknit beanie in olive green. She wasn’t 20 years old anymore, but she was a nice looking lady. She didn’t have her laptop, because there was no point in bringing it. She had her phone, but it was powered down, because no recording would be happening today. Those were the rules.
            They drove out of town in companionable silence mostly. They discussed the rescue of Tilly and the writeup Millicent had done of the story. Nobody had let slip who actually had brought Tilly back to her parents. Both felt that was pretty slick, and laughed.
            Colin confessed to a great deal of curiosity about how Ralph and his family lived at their home in the forest, and Millicent talked about some of what she had seen there.
            Before getting clear out of town they stopped at a drive up coffee stand in Marysville and got some coffees, and a couple of poppy seed muffins for the road. Colin made the drive last, taking slightly circuitous routes.
            At last they arrived at the wide spot on the highway where those goofy Squatch hunters had parked. Colin pulled the big county vehicle as far off the road as he could and parked. They got out and locked up and stood around for a couple of minutes waiting for Ralph to appear.
            It was mild out. The sun was popping in and out of clouds. The snow seemed to be gone at this altitude. But further uphill they could see that there was still a lot of snow remaining. A large Raven watched them from a lower branch, then took off into the forest.
            Just when they were starting to wonder where he was, Ralph appeared back in the trees a little and gestured for them to come into the forest and follow him.  Ralph didn’t like to go out on the verge of the highway during the day time.
            “Hey, we’re all happy you guys could come,” he said while they were making their way down the trail. “Ramona and Twigg know Millicent, but it will good for them to meet you Colin.”
            And just like always, soon they were in the Home Clearing. Colin looked around in wonder. It was so homey, but so outdoorsie also. There was the cave door Millicent had told him about.  Here was the fire circle and the logs pulled up near it for seating. A good big fire was burning, so it was very cozy and pleasant to be there.
            Ramona hugged Millicent and said hello to Colin. She invited them to sit by the fire. They were introduced to Twigg, who was getting to be a big guy for his age, of course. Millicent was allowed to hold Cherry, who sat still in her lap like a good girl and didn’t go floating away. Berry and Bob came around to be admired and sit by the fire.
            They talked and talked all before and through dinner, which was roasted ducks and roasted potatoes and carrots with onions, procured from Thaga. There was wild mint tea to drink and dried apple slices for dessert, with some wild hazel nuts too.
            Colin and Millicent both thanked Ramona for the lovely dinner in the wonderful setting. Then they all talked more. Soon evening was coming on. Ramona put the children and the puma bros to bed in the cave and then came out to join the others at the fire for more conversation.
            Ralph put some more deadfall wood on the fire, and it brightened up, lighting his face from below as he stood before Colin and Millicent where they sat together on one log. He became somewhat fearsome and solemn in appearance. He seemed to be deeply in thought or perhaps it was more like meditation. At last he spoke, in a changed voice, deep and serious.
            “I think it’s about time, don’t you two,” said Ralph. “You know what I mean, don’t you?” He stood before them, impossibly large and mythic with authority. Colin trembled a bit, then looked at Millicent, who seemed transfixed by the idea that was coming to birth in her mind.
            They looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments, and finally Colin said, “yes, it’s time.”  Millicent said, “yes, it is time!” They seemed a bit dazed, but happy and decided.
            So right then, and there, by the fire, in the gathering evening, in the deep forests of the Mt Baker Snoqualmie National Forest, Ralph helped Colin and Millicent give their promises to each other in front of Ralph and Ramona for witnesses, and in fact before their Maker also.
            Ralph laughed a booming laugh. There were congratulations and kisses and hugs. There were no flowers, no big guest list, no big deals, just the promises given.
            “Seemed like you two needed a little nudge,” he said, winking. Ramona had to laugh a little. She might have been an instigating force also.
            So, when Colin and Millicent left the Home Clearing to drive home, things were different. They went to his house, skipping the apartment altogether. They figured they would sort it all out soon. They thought they might get it legalized and change Millicent’s last name to Kelly, but no big hurry.
            There are some things which rise above legality, as we know well.

A Kind Of Air Conditioning

 

The for really true Mt Baker Snoqualmie National Forest in the winter!

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            We return briefly to the rescue and discovery of Tilly, the urchin who was pulled wet and miserable out of the big cold river by Berry and Bob, and her being brought back to the Home Clearing by Twigg and Linnet, where she was warmed and fed by “two mommies.” And then we all remember how Ralph carried her back to her parents, where they were grieving in their camp chairs and how a Snohomish County search and rescue guy reached the realization of who it was who had returned Tilly to Iris and Jim.
            Well, Officer Kelly was not the sort of man to leave loose ends and untied knots laying around. Such things bothered him, as an officer of the law, in addition to his normal desire to get to the bottom of things.
            It is true that he knew of Ralph, from his friendship with Millicent Price. He had known her since they were in high school, and sometimes they had actually discussed marriage, but hadn’t gotten around to it quite yet. That is to say that he believed her. He knew her as a straight shooter, and not too bad on a keyboard either.
            Now that he believed, even more than before Tilly’s rescue, he wanted to know. He needed to know.
            He thought of Tilly’s observation, “big!” and snorted to himself. In short, he decided that this was the year, the time, and the place for him to go introduce himself to the Forest Man, if he could just contrive somehow to arrange a meeting.
            On his next day off, a Tuesday, he bundled up in warm clothes, threw a thermos of hot coffee into his official SUV with the Snohomish County green and white paint job, and headed for approximately the area where Jim and Iris had been camped.  There was a paved parking lot near there.
            He got there pretty early in the morning. It was chilly and damp in the woods. He parked, locked up his vehicle, and stood just looking all around. He was a nice looking man in his forties. Friendly, a little soft, but not plump. He pulled a dark green county beanie down snug over his sandy curls and started walking.  He was kind of following his nose, or maybe some slight leading.
            Where his nose said to go was down the trail away from the river but towards the Home Clearing which we know so well. As he walked snow began to drift down through the trees. It was noticeably colder, after the heated SUV. But he kept going. He was wearing gloves and long wool underwear.
            Eventually Officer Kelly happened upon the big cedar log. Now, as it also happened, Ralph knew Kelly was out there, and he had decided to be friendly. So, there he was seated on his log, kind of swinging his legs and humming an almost subliminally deep rumbly song.
            The snow was falling around Ralph, but it wasn’t sticking. It was like it kind of avoided him as he sat there waiting for Kelly to appear.
            Kelly finally did walk up behind Ralph, who was facing home. Kelly was stopped in his tracks by the sight of that huge deep brown back. But since this meeting was what he was there for he stood his ground.
            “I know you’re back there.  Why don’t you come around where I can see you,” said Ralph.
            So, Officer Kelly came around where Ralph could see him. What Ralph saw was a curious guy, just verging on middle age, with a decent heart.
            What Kelly saw was an eight foot tall, maybe 600lb, depending on how hunting and cooking were going, guy, with a humorous broad face, an easy smile, and deeply set brown eyes with laugh crinkles all around them. He was covered in a really heroic haircoat also, long on his head and back and forearms and lower legs, and thinner over his chest. He was clean and shiny.
            “What’s your name officer?” said Ralph.
            “Colin M. Kelly,” said Colin.
            “Why don’t you knock some snow offa this log Colin and hop up and take a little break?” said Ralph.
            So Colin M. Kelly cleared a space in the snow and hopped up. It was a pretty good sized hop too.
            “I guess I knew you were out here because of Millicent,” said Colin. “I believed her, of course, but I just had to see for myself.  You know?”
            “I don’t blame you,” said Ralph.  “We do a pretty good job of staying out of sight, unless we want to be seen.”
            “By the way, thanks for taking Tilly back to her parents,” said Colin. “They were about to break down when she turned up missing. A kid that age is a random motion vector.”
            “I know,” said Ralph.
            “You have kids?” said Colin.
            “Two,” said Ralph.
             They sat together, not talking, just being there for a few minutes.
            Finally Colin said, “why doesn’t the snow stick to you and why is there a big melted area around you?  Why don’t you get cold in bad weather?  I always wondered about that. I don’t think you have heated houses out here, do you?”
            “Is this a business or a friendly interview, officer?” laughed Ralph. “Oh, I’m just kidding. We have shelter. At least my family and I do.  It’s a cave, but we would be fine without it really. What does the M. stand for?”
            “Marion. But don’t tell anybody. I don’t,” said Colin.
            “Okay. Um, we don’t get cold because of how we are made. I’m not sure. I have theories. I think we’re made with a kind of air conditioning built in. I think it’s in our hairs. When it’s hot they get colder than the air, and when it’s cold these hairs warm up!  They shed water real good too! Hey, nobody asked me that before. Not even Millicent, and I thought she had thought of everything. That is one nosy lady, Colin.”
            “I just wondered,” said Colin.
            “I better go home now Colin. And you better get out of this weather,” said Ralph. “Hey! I tell you what!  When the weather is better in a few months I’ll send you a little message. Don’t worry about it. You’ll notice when you get it.  Come on back and we’ll have dinner back with Ramona and the kids and the pumas! It’ll be great. You’ll love em, and they’ll love you!”
            “I would like that Ralph. And I am freezing my buns off here already. I’ll be waiting for that invite. Believe me. Shall I bring Millicent?”
            “Yeah, that sounds like fun, man,” said Ralph, hopping down off the log.
            “Okay, really looking forward to it, Ralph. Thanks! Man, I can’t wait to get in with my heater!” said Colin.
            Ralph patted him on the back, firmly, and Colin took off.

          Mission accomplished!

An Odd Little Story

 

Not really them! For display purposes only.

🌹🤍🌹

         “I was talking to Toots tonight,” said Suzy.

        “Oh! I never can figure out how you do that,” said Willie, “and what you two have to discuss is a mystery to me!”
        “Well, when I am sitting around with my eyes closed, sometimes she tells me stuff and I tell her stuff,” said Suzy. “You could do it too.”
        “Well, what’s the PowerPurr news tonight?” He was half listening.
        “People keep talking about odd little stories. We got to wondering what makes them odd. Why aren’t they even little stories?” said Suzy. “There is quite a bit to being odd, as you will see shortly, Willie!”

odd (adj.)
c. 1300, odde, "constituting a unit in excess of an even number," from Old Norse oddi "third or additional number," as in odda-maðr "third man, odd man (who gives the casting vote)," odda-tala "odd number." The literal meaning of Old Norse oddi is "point of land, angle" (related via notion of "triangle" to oddr "point of a weapon"); from Proto-Germanic *uzdaz "pointed upward" (source also of Old English ord "point of a weapon, spear, source, beginning," Old Frisian ord "point, place," Dutch oord "place, region," Old High German ort "point, angle," German Ort "place"), from PIE *uzdho- (source also of Lithuanian us-nis "thistle"). None of the other languages, however, shows the Old Norse development from "point" to "third number." Used from late 14c. to indicate a surplus over any given sum.
Sense of "strange, peculiar" first attested 1580s from notion of "odd one out, unpaired one of three" (attested earlier, c. 1400, as "singular" in a positive sense of "renowned, rare, choice"). An odd job "casual, disconnected piece of work" (1728) is so called from notion of "not regular." Odd lot "incomplete or random set" is from 1897. The international order of Odd Fellows began as local social clubs in England, late 18c., with Masonic-type trappings; formally organized 1813 in Manchester, England.

        “In view of all of that, I think the word I would use to describe some of her stories is “gnomish.” Suzy smiled pedantically. “That would definitely be odd, right?” Willie groaned a little.
        “She’s only written one story about a gnome Suzy!” countered Willie. He was thinking of Zaar of course. Zaar was definitely a gnome.
        “But, the point is that we were trying to even imagine what an even story could possibly be like,” said Suzy with wide eyes.
        “Listen, this is what Toots told me…”

even (adj.)
Old English efen "level," also "equal, like; calm, harmonious; equally; quite, fully; namely," from Proto-Germanic *ebna- (source also of Old Saxon eban, Old Frisian even "level, plain, smooth," Dutch even, Old High German eban, German eben, Old Norse jafn, Danish jævn, Gothic ibns). The adverb is Old English efne "exactly, just, likewise." Modern adverbial sense (introducing an extreme case of something more generally implied) seems to have arisen 16c. from use of the word to emphasize identity ("Who, me?" "Even you").
Etymologists are uncertain whether the original sense was "level" or "alike." Used extensively in Old English compounds, with a sense of "fellow, co-" (as in efeneald "of the same age;" Middle English even-sucker "foster-brother"). Of numbers, from 1550s. Sense of "on an equal footing" is from 1630s. Rhyming reduplication phrase even steven is attested from 1866; even break (n.) first recorded 1907. Even-tempered from 1712. To get even with "retaliate upon" is attested by 1833.

        “Do you see what the literary problem is,” asked Suzy.
        “Perhaps a story begins as an odd one, and then becomes even when the problems are solved and everyone is eating dinner together,” said Willie hopefully.
        “I think if you wrote an even story nothing would ever happen! There would be no question to be answered, no adventure to be lived through!” said Suzy. “It would be like going outside and looking at the garden, if you had one, or the night sky. Everything would stack up together with no motion!” She shuddered delicately.
        “It sounds like you prefer drama to happiness Suzy,” said Willie. “I think happiness is quite even in most cases. Perhaps this highlights one of the flaws of literature little sister. If it were only observational it would be too quiet, too even. But happiness often is quiet. Instead, literature dwells on requirements and troubles.”
        “I like happiness,” said Suzy. “But life is often full of odd little moments which must be dealt with. Sometimes I have to run as fast as I can to even up the score!”
        “Then you must decide which is more important. Is it to be a good ripping yarn, or a warm beautiful moment of now, with a good dinner, no scary noises, and a good long nap?” Willie smiled. “This seems to be related to the possibly spurious notion that all happy families are alike, hence, boring.”
        “I like that kind of boring,” said Suzy. “Toots just told me she likes it too and that she thinks you are pretty smart for a bossy big brother!”
        “I think Toots is pretty smart too. Tell her that and say hi to Sammie too,” said Willie.
        Suzy closed her eyes, with a little smile, enjoying the moment in that feline way that they do.

    

Der Drei Liddle Oinksters Return From Dec. 19, 2022.

 Just for fun, since we are nearing the High Holiday of Judaism.

*O*

Once there was a time, neither here nor there, when three wee swine lived at home in a split-level conundrum with Ma Schwein and Pa Schwein.  As was for usual, Pa went to his tiny field to tend the rutabagas and work on his expositions. (the dog matters not a whit!)

As it happens, Pa forgot to take his lunch along, as he could never keep his mind on the thing at hand, at all. He was, by all accounts, a hog of great pigheaded distractibility.

Now, being as they were pigs, they were neither quite Christians nor quite Jews.  They were somewhere else in the scheme of story tellings.  But, don't let me get ahead of myself.

Ma Florence, for that was her name, said to wee Nathan, "get ye gone, find your progenitor and bring him this bag of cornbread and schnitzel, for he has gone out without sustenance once more!  You will find him in the rutabagas working on his expositions".

Wee Nathan disappeared over the nearest hummock as fast as his little trotters could take him, calling "oh Pa, where be ya?"  But he didna' come back in a timely manner to report the completion of the deed.

Next, Florence called Michael, a dark and lively little fellow, in a green velvet jacket, who smoked little black cigars.  She said "now Michael, both of them are loosed upon the world.  Go you, find em, secure the lunch Nathan is probably nipping into, get the grub and take it to your Pa."  

Michael changed out of the velvet, putting on a sort of brown hacking jacket, tucked his cigars in the left hand pocket and started out around the nearest hillock, somewhat reluctantly, for he had better things to do than hunt lost familial pigs.  But, just like Nathan, Michael was not to return from his errand betimes.

At her porcine wit's end, Florence called the last one of her progeny, wise Johan.  He had been out behind the conundrum, sighting on a distant mountain top with a wonderful contrivance of his own invention, and was just getting things all lined up right.  She said, "Johan, now it's either you or me, and in this case, it's you. Go.  Just find all of them, get the lunch, what's left of it, take it to your Pa and bring those two home. It's time for their lessons."

(never you mind the text, it's an illustration for display purposes only)

Johan, set off thoughtfully and observantly, following little split hoof prints and larger ones.  As he was trotting along, snout to the earth, a great smarmy wolf appeared.  He was fond of pigs, in the worst way possible.  Johan, seeing which way the wind was blowing, set off running for the rutabaga field to hide in the rows.  Wolf loped along easily behind him, snickering. A great ridge of rough grey fur ran along his spine in an upsetting way.

Johan came upon Michael sitting under a gorseberry bush, smoking again.  "Follow along, Michael" says Johan, getting rather puffed as it were. "There is a great grey wolf on my tail and gaining!" His tail, bye the way, had three curls in it.

Michael leapt up, threw away his cigar and followed Johan, as fast as all their wee leggies could take them heading out for the rutabaga field to hide amongst the leaves.

As it happens, the wolf seeing an easy meal in his future had stopped to piss on a Box hedge, and prematurely count his blessings.

Johan and Michael found Nathan reclining outside the gate of Pa's little field having a bit of cornbread for his troubles and looking very relaxed.

(Nathan was just out of camera range)

"Come along" said Johan, as Michael stood there tapping one trotter on the path impatiently, "there is a great horking wolf on our trail!  Get up and follow!"  Just then Mr. Wolf loped into view, out behind the Wisteria arbor and coming on strong!

The porcine bros set out, making good time like all little pigs can.  And they were making a hell of a squealing racket, truth be told. But they didn't have a clear idea of where to go for safety.  The patter of their little hooves was intense! In the meantime the sun had set, because it does that sometimes.

In their rush, they ran clear out of their own neighborhood and entered an area just outside the local tiny hamlet.  Get that, hamlet? lol.  Where oh where to go for a hidyhole of shelter from that lupine brute? Things were looking discomforting, and they were getting tired anyhow, when all of a sudden in the darkness they saw the front window of a small cottage, with the curtains not drawn shut as they should be at night.  There was a sort of strange candleholder in the window holding nine candles, of which only two were burning. Odd, but ok!

Clustering at the little green door, banging and fussing and sweating, they were greeted at the door by an old fellow with a long white beard and a funny little hat on his head, who ushered them inside to the one house in the hamlet where any pig was absolutely safe from being eaten!  Also, this house was made of stones and no overblown self-important wolf could push it over, let alone blow it over.  So, Mr. Wolf just went home and had oatmeal for dinner and complained to his frau about the missed porkies.

As it happens, Pa Schwein had gone home early, missing his lunch and wanting dinner, so he was fine, if hungry,  and the rutabagas were fine, and the juvenile pigs were fine.  They snuck home later while the wolf was eating oatmeal.  Florence put them to bed early.  But she was secretly very thankful.  And that is the very truth, begorra!

So then, Chag Sameach, my dear friends!