Wanna Take A Ride?

 

          It was just another night. Jim had a lot on his mind. None of it was making him feel any warm fuzzies. He felt like a virus was winning the battle in his respiratory system too. He had a little bit of a fever and he thought maybe his lunch, which he ate at midnight, wasn’t sitting very well. Memo’s was open all night selling fast and iffy Mexican food out of a side window. Well, they were open, so that was he had his late night lunch break. Two pork tamales, and rice. One apple flavored bottle of Mexican pop.
            In this small city there weren’t too many late night fares. Like every other night, Jim was thinking that there had to be a better way to make a living wage, and maybe not sleep away the daylight hours.
            Since he spent so much time alone in his newish Taurus, Jim had become a sky watcher. He wished that there were more clear nights. He had become interested in stars and planets. Even on clear nights there was a lot of light pollution from town.
            He tried to learn something new every night, so he had his laptop in the front seat with him. It kept him fairly content. He enjoyed space and science web sites the most, with some YouTube thrown in.
            There was one all-night coffee stand on 41^st, so he rolled over there and bought a 24 oz. 5 shot Americano to keep him company. The barrista was a middle aged lady who had the late shift too. He was a regular, and they chatted about nothing much for a couple of minutes while she prepared his drink. He always tipped her two bucks. Linda was her name.
            People who drive for a living, often have little bits of home in their vehicle. Jim did too. A Barbie, all beat up from years of service, in the glove box. Some shiny stickers his daughter had decorated the inside of his car with were still there, catching the light once in a while. Stars, again. She was a grown girl now, stars or no stars.
            Jim had a place he liked to park, while he hung out waiting for texts from dispatch. It was a little strip park on an elevated area where he could see out over the bay. He had been known to doze off a little parked there by himself in the early hours.
            But tonight was election night and he wasn’t sleepy. He was mighty antsy. He felt like the poem said, that the center wasn’t holding. Everything was up in the air.
            As Jim watched, out beyond the piers, where the water was deep, he began to see something which he had never seen out there before. There was a disturbance in the middle of the bay. He saw an area of yellowish light glowing under the surface. It started quite faint, but got brighter and more defined as whatever was lit by that glow rose up through the water. It broke the surface.
It had to be a vehicle of some sort. Resting on the water for a moment, it was dark, very dark, with just a ring of light on the outside of its apparent round shape. He couldn’t see for sure but it seemed to be flattened, and round. Then it rose silently into the air, maybe a hundred feet up over the water.
            Silently, it approached the park where Jim waited and watched, not knowing what to think.
Incredibly, it settled down on the grassy area in front of the parking strip, between the old trees that had been there for over a hundred years. The ring of light around the craft dimmed down to a dull orange glow. It was larger than he had initially thought, maybe a hundred feet in diameter. There was a slight odor to it, now that it was close. He had been smoking with his window open. It was like ozone and something additional.
            Just like in all the movies, a hatch opened above the lighted ring, and someone hopped out onto the grass. This person, for it was a person of sorts, slowly walked up to Jim’s Taurus. As the person approached Jim felt a sense of excitement and affection grow in his heart. He didn’t understand this at all, but he wasn’t afraid either. It was like a download of peace.
            Jim stepped out of his car, to meet the newcomer.
When the pilot got close, Jim could see that he was definitely humanoid, maybe five feet tall. He wasn’t clothed as far as Jim could tell, but he was covered in short blond hair or fur, about like a cat’s pelt. If anything, this character looked kawai as heck, cute. Jim’s daughter would have thought he was cute!

            He had yellow eyes, and he was smiling. When he opened his mouth and spoke, he spoke in English and he sounded like a beloved old voice from night time radio.
            “Wanna take a ride?” he said, using Art’s voice and inflection perfectly. He smiled at the effect this had on Jim, who was rather gobsmacked, having been a faithful listener to Coast to Coast back when it was good.
            “Look, you can call me Art if you like. My native name would be a tongue twister for you! I learned to speak your language from eavesdropping on Earth media.
            “We’re here because you called us here, in a way. Desires of the heart and so on. I’m offering you a one time opportunity. If you want, you can come with us. I know you love the stars, I can read it all over you, Jim.”
            The smaller figure looked at him more soberly then, just waiting while Jim considered the offer.
            Jim stood there, in the little park in a small American city. He looked out into the dark sky and as he looked, the stars seemed to call to him. They burned more brightly than he had seen before in this cloudy place. Thoughts of all he had known and loved passed through his mind.
            The call was very strong.
“You don’t need to bring a thing, Jim,” said little Art.

            In the morning the city impounded Jim's Taurus, unlocked, wide open, with all his belongings, including his phone, wallet and keys still inside it.
It was a total mystery.

Well, See It's Like This...

        So, I took a whack at drawing Ralph. 

        Here's what I came up with through several stages. I will continue, on a different sheet of course.

        To my eyes, he came out a little faun-ish. But I don't think that's a terrible way to see him.

        It's very  easy to overwork these things. He got more bearded.

I guess I'll just be brave and post him.

        

With some ink.

           

        

In Thanksgiving

 🤍

A favorite photo.

Mary Ruth Olson/Jettie G.

        What a treat it was to know her! She was so very full of life, and fun. But of course that’s not all. She was a serious woman when it was called for. She was aware of the world as it is, and she did her bit to combat the madness. But it never tarnished her happy spirit.
        I met Jettie, of course, on MOTUS. Even knowing her name, I can’t help but think of her as Jettie, the name she chose to express herself. In our very first interaction, since I was a noobie there, she hit me with one of her patented challenges. I was intrigued. So the “battle” was joined and I jumped in. We had a lot of fun tossing screw balls at each other. She could take it, and she could dish it out in style.
        I don’t know her whole history. I know that she came from Alberta, Canada. But she didn’t stay there. She worked in Asia, and goodness knows where else. I heard something about New York City also. I know she spent time in Thailand, she often described her little hut style house there. She mentioned the Buddhist monks who were her friends. I believe she mentioned teaching English in a Japanese school.
        She loved animals, specifically dogs, to the point of commonly referring to cats as “furmops!” Of course, she didn’t really disparage them seriously. In fact, she referred to herself as a Blue Dog! We all know the picture.
        She was nuts for the Iditarod sled race every year, and always reported on its progress.
        She hosted birds and squirrels on her deck at home. She gave them names and kept track of them.
        She sent many of us numerous cards and small gifts. I have every one she sent me.
        I don’t believe that she had a dishonest cell in her body. What you saw is what you got from Jettie. She told it like she saw it, always.
        She loved and took care of Kubla for many years. He was blessed to have her.
        MOTUS herself wrote a lovely tribute to Jettie over on her blog. Many people added their heartfelt appreciations of our friend.
        I just want to take this moment to thank the Almighty God for the time we spent together online and in spiritual communion.

        To know her is to love her. I know that she abides.

🤍

Maeve Has A Story To Tell

 

🌲🤍🌲

The Gossip Monger

            Maeve was doing that thing she does when she wants attention again. It’s rather undignified for a bird of her age. While the snow filtered down through the trees and the forest had that hushed sound that happens during snowfall, she was hanging upside down on a low branch.             In her mind it was such a compelling sight to see a large Raven upside down that it should demand attention.
            Nobody was around though, so she started making that knocking sound Ravens make. The snow muffled it though. It wasn’t working.
            At last Ramona came out to build up the fire. A good sign. Finally the day was beginning.
            “Guess what I know,” said Maeve, from her reversed perch.
            “Well, since you say you know everything, it’s hard to guess,” said Ramona to the needy bird.
            “I heard something you might not believe,” said Maeve.
            “Well, I can tell one thing for sure, you’re dying to spread the news, Maeve!”
            During this interchange Ralph appeared, yawning and checking out the morning. Maeve flew to his shoulder, as was her custom.
            “I know something you don’t know,” she announced.
            “That’s hard to imagine,” Ralph teased. “Oh, what could it be?”
            “Maybe I just won’t tell you then,” said Maeve.
            “You can tell me, Maeve. I won’t spread it around. Ramona isn’t even listening!”
            Just then Twigg appeared with Berry and Bob.
            “Hey, Maeve!” said Twigg. “Why don’t you ever sit on my shoulder?”
            She was getting a little desperate by this point. No one seemed to be taking her seriously at all. Everybody was acting as if nothing special was going on.
            “M’naouu!” said Berry.
            “Mrrt!” said Bob, because he didn’t always talk, only when he wanted to.
            Ramona had been making fish soup for breakfast because it’s quick and nice to have something hot on a snowy day in the great forest.
            “Maeve, would you like some soup?” asked Ramona, holding up one of those wooden bowls Ooog had made a while back.
            “Yes! Yes! But, oh my beak and feathers, why will no one listen to me?” pleaded Maeve.
            Finally, soup bowl in hand, Ralph said, “aw, it’s okay Ma Bird, what’s the big story today? There’s always a story. Right? Tell us all together!”
            Just then, little Cherry drifted out to join the breakfast party, and have a little soup too.
            “Yes,” said Maeve. “There is always a story. This one is about you Ralph and Ramona and Twigg and Cherry too. A bird who knows these things told me early today, before the sun came up, that you are all characters in a book.”
            “I think that bird was pulling your tail feathers, Maeve,” chuckled Ralph. “Why don’t you have some of this nice soup? That was surely just a story!”
            “Do you think so?” wondered Maeve, with her head tilted to the side, studying him up close.
            “Well, OK then. I should have known better than to believe that bit of gossip. You’re usually right, Ralph,”said Maeve at last, because she always believed Ralph, and he was almost always right!

A Prospective Introduction To Ralph's Book

 

    I wonder if you patient and helpful guys would take a look at this bit of text and tell me if it seems like an adequate introduction to The Book of Ralph?

    Is there anything else that should be there?  Is there anything there that shouldn't be there?

*0*

Introduction

Possibly a word of explanation is in order. After all, the subject of our story is a most unusual character.

To start at the beginning, his birth was a process of evolution, that started with some blog posts. At that beginning point Ralph himself was presented as very near the common perception of Sasquatch in the Pacific Northwest. But, he couldn’t stay there. He wandered off. Not away from the PNW, but away from how he is usually presented, as fearsome and irrational.

A world grew up around him and his friends and family in the great forest. A world apart, full of oddities and homely virtues.

Over the months, with each new chapter or vignette, his personality developed into the fine fellow you will meet in these pages.

By the end of the series, you will know his wife, Ramona, his children, Twigg and Cherry, and his many friends and co-inhabitants in the wonderful world inside the Mt. Baker Snoqualmie National Forest.

 

November Has Arrived!

 

 Every year when November rolls around I think of this little poem.  I believe he meant it humorously!

🍁🤍🍂 November by Thomas Hood  No sun — no moon! No morn — no noon — No dawn — no dusk — no proper time of day. No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, No comfortable feel in any member — No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! — November! Thomas Hood (1799 - 1845) was a poet, publisher, editor, and humorist. The son of a bookseller, he was born in London and lived there for most of his life, with stints in Scotland and Belgium. Well known for his puns and comic verse, Thomas also composed poems that drew attention to the social evils of his day. 🤍     Years ago when we lived in Seattle, there was a little old man I would see walking the streets, rain or shine.  He was ancient, and he wore a complete set of yellow rain gear, hat and all.      I called him November. Bless his heart. I think he was taking exercise.     In any case, I pray that our November this year brings us good news and a profound betterment in the national situation.     I pray for justice, and the revelation of truth. But above that I pray that God's will be manifest on earth.