It was a funny time of year for it,
but Twigg had been working on something. He had been thinking about the little
house of living saplings that he had made for Bernadette and all the B’s. He
knew that it could be done full size and he was thinking that a Basket House of
his own, near his family would be a fine thing and that it would un-crowd the
family cave to have him sleeping in his own place.
So he picked a spot at the edge of the meadow where tall alder saplings grew in a convenient pattern. It wasn’t too far from the Gifting Stump where he and Marge had first met and made friends. He wasn’t in a big hurry, he was mostly planning and thinking of how best to make it.
There was some snow out there, but snow doesn’t concern such as Twigg very much, in fact they enjoy the nice cold stuff. Forest People are very warm blooded.
The morning after the night that he had walked into the campground to Marge’s camp host mobile, Twigg got up early. He wanted to talk to Ramona. He knew she was out there working around her fire, stirring up something for the first meal of their day.
She was frying a great quantity of grated potatoes and onions, courtesy of Ooog’s winter storage of those two items. There would be warmed over venison too. And coffee.
Twigg stepped out into the cold morning air, with his breath flying out before him. He closed the green door quietly, and said, “Mom?”
“Yes, my beloved son?” said Ramona.
“I wanted to ask you something about girls,” said he.
“Oh! Ask away. You have come to an expert. Why, I myself, was a girl at one time,” said his mother.
“I thought so,” said Twigg. “What I want to know is what do you think I can give Marge for this Christmas time that the humans have? What do girls want?”
She flipped her potatoes and onions over thoughtfully. He didn’t see that her eyebrows were up while she thought. Then she said, “Well, the answer to that comes in two parts. The first part is that if she cares about you, anything that you give her will be precious to her. In a way it doesn’t matter.
“However, it will matter to you. I think that you must make her something that represents you. Something not too large. Something that will last. Because she will keep it forever and you want it to be well made. But, what, I can’t tell you,” said Ramona at last, turning back to him.
“Do you remember what I said to you a while ago, Twigg?” she said.
“Yes, Mom, I do remember,” he said, a little sadly, because his heart was a very sweet and tender heart. Ramona knew this.
“Some sort of keepsake, Twigg. Maybe a place to keep her hopes and dreams in,” said the mother.
They heard the door to the cave open then and Ralph came out blowing steam in the cold air and yawning. He was followed by Cherry and Blue in a moment. Cats don’t care for potatoes and onions, so they stayed abed for a while. They do like venison though, so eventually they came out too.
So, the family ate and the day began.
Twigg went out to his chosen building site. He had an idea of what he wanted to make for the gift. It would be made of small twigs. So he gathered an armful of the smaller branches off of the alder saplings. He carried these back home.
He worked all day, sitting by the fire where the light was good. The cave was dim inside.
When he was done, he had made an oval shaped shallow basket about 12 inches long with a recessed lid. He decorated the lid with some Oregon grape leaves, which look a lot like holly, though he knew nothing of the tradition of holly at Christmas. He put a layer of small Douglas fir branch tips inside it in a soft layer.
Next, he made his way to the river. He was losing the light, since the days were so short, but he had time to search among the gravel just at the edge of the stream where he found a handful of small agates and a few other pretty rocks.
Back at the Home Clearing, Twigg arranged the rocks inside the basket. At last he was pretty pleased with the effect.
He was eager to take the basket to Marge immediately, so basket in arm, Twigg walked back to the deserted campground, heading to Marge’s little place. As he approached, he thought that it looked so pretty with its string of multi-colored lights arranged around the front of the mobile. The lights framed her kitchen window where the small Christmas tree shone out into the darkness. He could see why the Hairless loved those lights. They weren’t able to make the little lights like he and his people could, which Twigg thought was a little sad.
Making brand new big footprints in the snow, he walked straight to her door and knocked. Then he waited.
She opened the door just a crack to see who was knocking on her door in the dark of the campground.
“Twigg! Come in,” Marge said. “Can you fit through this little door?”
He ducked his head and stepped in. “I guess so,” he said.
“What brings you here tonight, Twigg?”
“I couldn’t wait. I made you a present for your Christmas, Marge, look!” said Twigg.
And look she did, slowly and carefully. She lifted the lid after examining its décor, and touched the rocks inside.
“Twigg, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever had in my life. You are a true artist. It’s too wonderful!” she said. She just looked at the basket for a few silent moments.
“You know what? I have something for you too!” laughed Marge. “Hang on, it’s in the other room.”
“Let me explain,” she said. “I got you a Swiss Army knife, a red one so it’s easier to find if you drop it somewhere. But then I thought, oh no, Twigg doesn’t exactly have pockets. So, I bought you a crossbody bag to put it in! And here it is!”
She handed him the knife, after demonstrating how it worked. He handled it as if it were the most precious thing he had ever seen. Then she showed him how to wear the bag and that it had a zipper.
“Thank you, Margie,” Twigg whispered. “It’s beautiful and I will always and always keep it forever. I could have used a knife today!”
“Are you hungry?” said Marge, knowing that a Squatch is always hungry. “Let’s make some sandwiches and tea. I have corned beef, Swiss cheese and rye bread. You’ll love it!”
She made room on her table for the beautiful basket, then gathered supplies for the sandwiches, and started water for tea.
Twigg watched while she made three big thick sandwiches. Two were for him and one for her. He did love the sandwiches and thought the tea was very nice too, especially since she put quite a lot of sugar in it.
They talked and laughed for an hour or so, then Twigg said, “I’ll go home now.”
When he stood to go, Marge hugged him, which was kind of comical because he was about 7 feet tall and she was about 5’7”. So basically she kind of hugged his middle. But they didn’t care.
They said their goodnights and he left the same way he had come, making even more big footprints in the snow.
Marge locked the little metal door. Then she sat on her kitchen chair looking at the basket. She wept a bit because she was a girl and that’s what girls do, sometimes. She knew she would keep the twig basket as long as she lived.
So he picked a spot at the edge of the meadow where tall alder saplings grew in a convenient pattern. It wasn’t too far from the Gifting Stump where he and Marge had first met and made friends. He wasn’t in a big hurry, he was mostly planning and thinking of how best to make it.
There was some snow out there, but snow doesn’t concern such as Twigg very much, in fact they enjoy the nice cold stuff. Forest People are very warm blooded.
The morning after the night that he had walked into the campground to Marge’s camp host mobile, Twigg got up early. He wanted to talk to Ramona. He knew she was out there working around her fire, stirring up something for the first meal of their day.
She was frying a great quantity of grated potatoes and onions, courtesy of Ooog’s winter storage of those two items. There would be warmed over venison too. And coffee.
Twigg stepped out into the cold morning air, with his breath flying out before him. He closed the green door quietly, and said, “Mom?”
“Yes, my beloved son?” said Ramona.
“I wanted to ask you something about girls,” said he.
“Oh! Ask away. You have come to an expert. Why, I myself, was a girl at one time,” said his mother.
“I thought so,” said Twigg. “What I want to know is what do you think I can give Marge for this Christmas time that the humans have? What do girls want?”
She flipped her potatoes and onions over thoughtfully. He didn’t see that her eyebrows were up while she thought. Then she said, “Well, the answer to that comes in two parts. The first part is that if she cares about you, anything that you give her will be precious to her. In a way it doesn’t matter.
“However, it will matter to you. I think that you must make her something that represents you. Something not too large. Something that will last. Because she will keep it forever and you want it to be well made. But, what, I can’t tell you,” said Ramona at last, turning back to him.
“Do you remember what I said to you a while ago, Twigg?” she said.
“Yes, Mom, I do remember,” he said, a little sadly, because his heart was a very sweet and tender heart. Ramona knew this.
“Some sort of keepsake, Twigg. Maybe a place to keep her hopes and dreams in,” said the mother.
They heard the door to the cave open then and Ralph came out blowing steam in the cold air and yawning. He was followed by Cherry and Blue in a moment. Cats don’t care for potatoes and onions, so they stayed abed for a while. They do like venison though, so eventually they came out too.
So, the family ate and the day began.
Twigg went out to his chosen building site. He had an idea of what he wanted to make for the gift. It would be made of small twigs. So he gathered an armful of the smaller branches off of the alder saplings. He carried these back home.
He worked all day, sitting by the fire where the light was good. The cave was dim inside.
When he was done, he had made an oval shaped shallow basket about 12 inches long with a recessed lid. He decorated the lid with some Oregon grape leaves, which look a lot like holly, though he knew nothing of the tradition of holly at Christmas. He put a layer of small Douglas fir branch tips inside it in a soft layer.
Next, he made his way to the river. He was losing the light, since the days were so short, but he had time to search among the gravel just at the edge of the stream where he found a handful of small agates and a few other pretty rocks.
Back at the Home Clearing, Twigg arranged the rocks inside the basket. At last he was pretty pleased with the effect.
He was eager to take the basket to Marge immediately, so basket in arm, Twigg walked back to the deserted campground, heading to Marge’s little place. As he approached, he thought that it looked so pretty with its string of multi-colored lights arranged around the front of the mobile. The lights framed her kitchen window where the small Christmas tree shone out into the darkness. He could see why the Hairless loved those lights. They weren’t able to make the little lights like he and his people could, which Twigg thought was a little sad.
Making brand new big footprints in the snow, he walked straight to her door and knocked. Then he waited.
She opened the door just a crack to see who was knocking on her door in the dark of the campground.
“Twigg! Come in,” Marge said. “Can you fit through this little door?”
He ducked his head and stepped in. “I guess so,” he said.
“What brings you here tonight, Twigg?”
“I couldn’t wait. I made you a present for your Christmas, Marge, look!” said Twigg.
And look she did, slowly and carefully. She lifted the lid after examining its décor, and touched the rocks inside.
“Twigg, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever had in my life. You are a true artist. It’s too wonderful!” she said. She just looked at the basket for a few silent moments.
“You know what? I have something for you too!” laughed Marge. “Hang on, it’s in the other room.”
“Let me explain,” she said. “I got you a Swiss Army knife, a red one so it’s easier to find if you drop it somewhere. But then I thought, oh no, Twigg doesn’t exactly have pockets. So, I bought you a crossbody bag to put it in! And here it is!”
She handed him the knife, after demonstrating how it worked. He handled it as if it were the most precious thing he had ever seen. Then she showed him how to wear the bag and that it had a zipper.
“Thank you, Margie,” Twigg whispered. “It’s beautiful and I will always and always keep it forever. I could have used a knife today!”
“Are you hungry?” said Marge, knowing that a Squatch is always hungry. “Let’s make some sandwiches and tea. I have corned beef, Swiss cheese and rye bread. You’ll love it!”
She made room on her table for the beautiful basket, then gathered supplies for the sandwiches, and started water for tea.
Twigg watched while she made three big thick sandwiches. Two were for him and one for her. He did love the sandwiches and thought the tea was very nice too, especially since she put quite a lot of sugar in it.
They talked and laughed for an hour or so, then Twigg said, “I’ll go home now.”
When he stood to go, Marge hugged him, which was kind of comical because he was about 7 feet tall and she was about 5’7”. So basically she kind of hugged his middle. But they didn’t care.
They said their goodnights and he left the same way he had come, making even more big footprints in the snow.
Marge locked the little metal door. Then she sat on her kitchen chair looking at the basket. She wept a bit because she was a girl and that’s what girls do, sometimes. She knew she would keep the twig basket as long as she lived.
🎁
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