What Will She Think of Next?

           One day, during the winter, there was a lot of snow on the ground, so that it looked quite festive in the Mt. BSNF, if one were inclined to see it that way. To some it would have looked like a Christmas card, or maybe a Hallmark movie. But, of course, Ramona was quite innocent of those associations. She thought it was a pretty, snowy day, and she felt like going for a walk and visiting her friends Thaga and Ooog.
            After making sure that Ralph, Twigg and the cats had a good solid breakfast, she gathered up Cherry, firmly, in her right arm, and in her left hand she carried a small bag of dry pitch lumps which Twigg had gathered from the tree trunks. It was a gift for Ooog. She thought he might find a use for some pitch.
            For someone of Ramona’s gait, it was a short, pleasant walk. Soon she had cleared the forest and was walking in brush and meadow land. As she approached her friends’ house the sun shone brilliantly on the deep snow. It made a pretty picture.
            When Ramona and Cherry came up to the porch doing that Sasquatch light step thing, Thaga, who had been watching, threw open the door. Ramona stomped the snow off of her feet and stepped into the warm old stone cottage.
            Faithful Maeve had been there earlier to warn of the upcoming visit.
            Ramona had something in mind to discuss with Thaga. It had been preying on her for a while.
            “Thaga,” she began, “I have been thinking.”
            “That’s good,” said Thaga. “You’re a good thinker, usually.” She looked at her friend with a big smile on her face.
            “No, I mean it,” said Ramona.
            “I think I want a dress,” she said. “You have dresses and skirts and sweaters, and I like them, Thaga. Why can’t I have a dress too?”
        “Oh, my,” said Thaga.
            “But you Hairless get all the pretty stuff!”
            “It’s not that simple,” sighed Thaga. “Sure, I have skirts and dresses, and I made them all myself too!”
            “Why couldn’t you make a dress for me?” wheedled Ramona, sounding something like her son.
            “I could, though drafting a pattern your size would be a feat!” giggled Thaga. “But the trouble is, that a dress is not just a dress, Ramona. It means something. If nothing else, it implies laundry. Clothing must be cared for.”
            “But all I want is the dress,” said Ramona, grabbing Cherry as she drifted by, and settling the babe into her lap. “I’m not asking to be initiated into the mysteries of Hairless culture.”
            “You know why us hairless types wear clothing? It’s because we’re too funny looking without it, and we get cold, or sunburnt, or chewed up by mosquitoes.
            “You’re already ‘dressed’,” she added.
            “But I feel so plain,” cried Ramona. “I’m the same every day!”
            “You’re naturally elegant, putting dresses on you would be as silly as dressing flowers or those pumas. It wouldn’t add anything. It would cover up your elegance.
            “I think the problem is in your mind, not on your body,” said sincere Thaga. “Remember when Ralph wore those jeans for a while? You thought it was ridiculous and that he was putting on airs! What would he say if you showed up in a big old dress on top of your lovely curly hair?”
            Ramona had to laugh. She hadn’t considered that. He might think that she was putting on airs, she had to admit. “But Thaga, what if he liked my dress?” asked Ramona.
            “Then you would have a complication to deal with in your idyllic life in the forest. One dress leads to other things. Other clothing items. What if your beautiful hair started to drop out? I don’t know if it would of course.
            “But then, how would you wash it? You would have to take it to the river and scrub it there. That implies soap or detergent. Where would you get that? Well, from me I suppose. Do you need more work?
            “How far do you want to go in being like us, are you sure it would be an improvement?”
            “I guess I was feeling envious, Thaga. I love your pretty flowery cloth!”
            “Oh, sweet dear Ramona, there is no reason to envy Mankind, female division,” laughed Thaga. “We have our joys and sorrows, but being naturally beautiful is not one of them for most of us, once youth has flown!
        “I see what the nub of this sudden desire is,” said Thaga.

            “You are so kind and wise,” murmured Ramona, a bit sadly.
            “I tell you what, sweetie, let’s go look at my scraps and big pieces of flowery cloth and we will start to make a new quilt. Surely Twigg and Cherry are both going to need quilts as they get older. You will see the beautiful cloth every time you look at or move the quilts. We can start now, and we can work together. Does that sound good?”
            “Yes. That makes sense,” agreed Ramona.
            So, that was just what they did. They looked all afternoon at Thaga’s fabric pieces and planned away a pleasant day.
            Ramona carried her daughter home through falling snow later, with her head all full of beautiful plans and designs, and she was comforted.