Top Cat

Reigning as the Top Cat.

I think of myself as the “Top Cat” around this house.  Mr. and Mrs. Wynter brought me home from a shelter about two years ago.  They love skiing up on the big mountain, and they adore their cats even more . . . with one exception.

Me!!  Yes, you got it.  I always seem to be in trouble around here.  My female cousins, Sky and Birdie, are treated like royalty.  Can you imagine two cats being treated like a pair of princesses? 

Well . . . I want to tell you my side of the story. 

My given name is Revel, which isn’t such as bad name.  While Sky is sometimes curious and Birdie is shy, I love the adventure of roaming and exploring the house.

A few days ago, I am in the garage with Mr. Wynter.  He doesn’t seem to notice me as I glide along the garage door rails high above the floor.  I can be quite the acrobat while walking this tightrope.

I enjoy chasing and teasing my cousins, especially Birdie.  She is so timid, but she doesn’t seem to mind it when I am pulling a chunk of hair from her back.  I have a cool collection of her hair stashed under the bed in the spare bedroom.  Mr. and Mrs. Wynter haven’t vacuumed there for months.

Sky likes to pull open drawers in just about any room.  I encourage her to open as many as possible.  When she’s finished, I move in and pull objects out of the drawer with my mouth.  It’s so much fun to leave a mess in every room of the house.

When Mr. and Mrs. Wynter eat dinner, I join them by jumping up on the dining table.  They become easily annoyed with me so I have to be quick to jump back down to the floor.  It’s sort of like playing “cat and mouse.”

Last week, I helped Mrs. Wynter do some baking.  When she would turn her back, I would jump up on the kitchen counter.  Have you ever seen a cloud of sifted flour float through the air?

It seems that everyone in the house has grown tired of my adventures.  They call it mischief. 

Oh my!  The life of a “Top Cat” needs to be an exciting venture.

Last night, I climbed up on a bookshelf high above the master bedroom floor.  There was a pot with a houseplant in it.  I just couldn’t help myself.  I pulled and pulled with my teeth and claws until most of the plant and dirt flew out and landed on the bed.

I guess I may have gone a bit too far this time.  Mr. and Mrs. Wynter have been dressing me today in a prison outfit, complete with black and white stripes.  I look more like a convict instead of a “Top Cat.”

Snickering at my unfortunate circumstances, Sky and Birdie now call me Rebel.

Hey, I am innocent until proven guilty! P.S. My name isn’t Rebel . . . It’s Revel!

My youngest daughter and her husband provide a home for three rescued kittens (now full-grown cats).  Revel, Sky, and Birdie enjoy their new home.  And yes, Revel does have his moments.  The photos of Revel were taken by my daughter.

Monday Memories: Icy Caper

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Police issue an “All-Points Bulletin” in a flash.  The local jewelry store has been robbed by an elderly man dressed in a white suit.  Patrol cars frantically scurry here and there—no luck!

Detective Joe Friday joins the hunt.  His crime-solving skills are legendary.  He always reminds each interviewee, “Just give me the facts.”

Driving down a quiet residential street, Friday spies a white ice cream vending cart on a corner.  Selling ice cream treats to the neighborhood children, the gray-haired man hands out love and more.

Pulling up behind the cart, the renowned detective surveys the scene.  Calling on his car’s radio for back-up, he knows he can’t wait.  The last of the children walks away with their frozen, sweet treats.

Approaching the man in the white suit, Friday pulls out his gold detective shield.  With a confident voice and a smile, he asks, “Do you happen to have something ‘hot’ on ice today?”

View from Mockingbird Lane

Courtesy of Pinterest.

I have been living with my aunt and uncle for a few years on Mockingbird Lane.  While I love my family a great deal, I must admit my life has been much too challenging at times.

I always feel frustrated at being the “plain” person in the family.  I pretty much look like anyone who walks by our house, but I am sure people talk behind my back when they see the rest of my peculiar family.

Uncle Herman once greeted one of my dates at the door.  When I came downstairs to meet him, he had rudely disappeared.  I guess he felt overcome with fright upon seeing my uncle who stands over seven feet tall.

Aunt Lily, who is a devoted wife, enjoys preparing pancakes every morning, but I seldom have an opportunity to eat many of them.  My uncle gobbles them down faster than she can cook them. 

Grandpa is a gentle soul who enjoys telling stories about the good old days in Europe.  I think my ears have heard every story at least three times over from this “past his prime” storyteller.

Cousin Eddie is quite a bit younger than I am.  He is still in elementary school, but he misses a whole lot of school because he sleeps in each morning after a full moon.  He wakes up at midnight, and he isn’t sure if he wants to howl at the moon or go in search of some red, bloody meat in the refrigerator. 

As you can see, I don’t quite fit in with this family.  I almost always have to walk to school by myself because all of my classmates walk on the other side of the street.  One morning, they fled when they saw my uncle catch a ride to work in the company car (a hearse).  He crawled in through the back door and lied down in the back.

I appreciate you listening.  Please stay for a bit longer as I have several more grievances to discuss. 

Uncle Herman has a steady job with Gateman, Goodbury and Graves where he works as a grave digger.  Being big and strong, his employer appreciates his excavation skills.  But for a mature man, he still melts down with childish temper tantrums when he doesn’t get his way.  Good grief!

Aunt Lily and Grandpa stay in touch with relatives who still live in Europe.  I sometimes dream of traveling there until I realize that they both have ancestors back in Transylvania.  Yes, you got it!  They are both vampires.

Eddie is a creepy juvenile delinquent, and his appearance scares everyone away.  Who would want to play with a boy who is half vampire and half werewolf?  I rest my case.

My naive uncle took me trick-or-treating a few times when I was younger.  People loved his costume, but they became fearful when he would want to shake someone’s hand.  They would freak out upon seeing all of the “real” hair on the back of his enormous hands.

Oh, I almost forgot.  My uncle traces his family tree to Germany, and he is a close associate of Dr. Frankenstein.

So if you see me walking along the street in the neighborhood, please don’t run away.  I would love to find a few new friends.  All of my old ones are too scared to come around anymore. 

Marilyn Munster

 

“The Munsters” was an American sitcom back in the mid-1960s.  Even though the show only aired 70 episodes, it gathered quite a following when the show went into syndication.  By the way, Marilyn Munster did look like any normal, young woman with her blonde hair and modern dress.  

Courtesy of Pinterest.

Lucky We Made It

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Kayaking the whitewater on the West Fork of the Stillwater River seems like an easy adventure to enjoy for Pete and his pal, Bill. 

Bill, the daredevil of the twosome, pipes up, “What can be so tough about navigating this river?”  The duo has spent many hours on the water back in Billings at Lake Elmo, a serene and small lake at a city park.

Now traveling to the Beartooth Ranger District of Montana’s Custer National Forest, the two men figure they can comfortably kayak the Stillwater as well.

The adventurers arrive at the river, and they have never seen whitewater turbulence quite like this.  The river is running fast as the thundering rapids bubble with extra amounts of energy splashing off of the numerous, large boulders in the channel.   

Thinking to himself, Pete looks with a bit of apprehension upon the scene, “This might be more than we bargained for.”

Bill looks ready to take on anything, and soon the adrenalin rush consumes any nervousness left in the kayaking tandem.

Both men are equipped with helmets and wetsuits, and each will be piloting his own kayak for the next few miles. 

A harrowing journey awaits the two river crusaders.  Their eyes grow bigger with worry as they pilot around blocks of stone in the water.  The spray from the fast-moving water hides some of the other dangers . . .  concealed tree snags and submerged rocks.  Occasionally, tree branches reach out into the river from the bank.

Paddling and steering their small crafts, the men try to allow the river’s downstream current to propel them along.  Soon both men realize . . . much too late . . . the Stillwater reminds them of who really is the one in control. 

Just missing another oversized boulder, Bill flips his kayak over and then pops back up above the river’s boiling, frothing surface.  His “Evil Knievel” eyes are filled with fright.  He thinks to himself, “This ain’t Lake Elmo!”

Pete dodges a series of low branches near the far shoreline of the river.  He overreacts and dumps himself upside down into the river as the kayak takes him for a short submarine ride.  He loses sight of Bill as his kayak returns to the surface, minus his paddle.

Eventually, the tired and haggard pair of kayakers stagger to their destination, pull their battered kayaks out of the river, stumble into their pick-up trucks, and cautiously drive over to the Cowboy Bar and Supper Club at Fishtail.  As the humbled duo walks into the restaurant for a quiet, relaxing meal, Pete is heard to say, “Lucky we made it!”

 

While I have never used a kayak, I have floated a few rivers.  However, they seem quite tame compared to the energetic Stillwater River.  The story is pure fiction, but the locations are “real” Montana places.  Here’s a short video clip of kayaking on the Stillwater.  Enjoy!

Here It Comes!

Courtesy of Pinterest.

Barney, an American tourist, is visiting an Aboriginal cultural site in Australia.  For his enthusiastic audience, one of the guides plans to demonstrate how to throw a boomerang

He flings the L-shaped projectile outward, with the intention of it returning back to him.  Or so . . . he hopes everything works out as intended.

As the summer heat burns up the air’s remaining moisture, Barney pulls out his water bottle for a thirst-quenching gulp.  Unaware, he wanders right in front of the guide.

Sometimes, opposite forces must interact in a cataclysmic event.  Now is one of those moments when time stands still.

The guide offers a hurried instruction, “Here it comes mate!”

Monday Memories: Catchin’ a Flick

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Pete visits the local movie theater one night to catch one of his favorite animated films, “The Road Runner Meets Bugs Bunny.”

He hasn’t been to the old theater for several years because he is usually in bed early each night.  He’s pleasantly surprised to find the old, uncomfortable chairs have been replaced with loungers.

The film begins promptly, and Pete finds an extra comfortable lounger smack dab in the middle of the theater—a perfect seat!  He places his extra-large diet cola in a convenient cup holder while holding a jumbo tub of seasoned, buttered popcorn on his lap.

The film continues for the next 90 minutes or so, and the theater is filled with hilarious laughter except for one patron.  As the movie ends, the house lights are turned up, and the audience exits.

A young usher walks up to Pete, still snoring and catchin’ some winks.  His popcorn is scattered all over the floor as the tub has fallen from his lap. 

The boy taps him on the shoulder, “Sir, the movie is over.”

Wisdom’s Companion

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An elderly man steadily works in his backyard, raking up some of autumn’s harvest of red maple leaves.  The quiet, afternoon air is punctuated by angry and upset mumbling coming from the neighbor’s yard.

Walking over to the fence, the former teacher listens while a much younger man unsuccessfully tries to start up his lawn mower.  The neighbor, in his late twenties, has been facing extra pressure and longer hours at the small business he operates.

Pausing and then sending some words of encouragement over the fence, the quiet man offers some advice, “Does the mower need a new spark plug?”

A quick reply comes back, “I never thought of that.”

The conversation continues back and forth for a few minutes.  The young man confesses his frustration at work has brought a heavy burden on him as well as his family.  He is married with a young daughter.

The wise neighbor adds some gems of wisdom before they both go back to their separate chores, “Hang in there.  God’s using these difficult days to prepare you for a more successful tomorrow.  He’s equipping you with tools which will help you to bear fruit.”

The young man replies back, “Thanks.  I appreciate your advice as well as your testament from the Lord.”

With the rake in his hand, the elderly man prepares to step away from the fence, but he returns and offers a prayer for the young man, “God, grant Tim the serenity to accept the things he cannot change, the courage to change the things he can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Both men say their final words, and return to their respective yard work. 

As the retired teacher continues to rake more of the stubborn leaves into a series of small piles, he hears the lawn mower start up with a roar.  Obviously, the young man has changed the mower’s spark plug, and it is now running as it should.

At the same time, Tim feels the spark of God’s Word bringing him patience and encouragement for today as well as for tomorrow.

From 2 Peter 1:5-7:  “For this very reason, you must make every effort to support your faith with goodness, and goodness with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with endurance, and endurance with godliness, and godliness with mutual affection, and mutual affection with love.”

Monday Memories: Dang Jack Rabbit

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Bill runs into his neighbor Fred at the local feed store.  In conversation, Bill tells Fred, “I noticed that there back tire on yer truck is a mite bit low on tread.”

Fred replies back, “Ah, dat there tire has quite a few miles left da go.”

The men depart and finish up their business in town before heading back home.  As Bill drives down the road, he comes upon Fred’s truck, rolled over on its side, off of the road.

Bills stops and surveys the situation.  Fred appears okay, much of his cattle feed is scattered on the ground, and the suspected tire has blown nearly clean off of the rim.

Bill calmly asks Fred what has happened.  With eyes growing bigger by the second, Fred excitedly tells him, “A vig jack rabbit nearly ran me self off this here road.  Look vat he did to ma perfectly good tire.”

Sneak Peek

Here is a sneak peek of a short story which has been sitting in my “to later be finished” folder.  This preview presents the beginning of the story in a very unfinished format.  There is more editing and work to be done.  Right now, the title is “On the Run.”

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Dateline:  St. Louis (30 years ago)

The First National Bank was robbed at gunpoint this morning.  The amount of cash taken appears to exceed one million dollars.  Police confirmed that the outlaw couple of Liz and Winston pulled off the heist.

Thirty years later . . .

On a bright, sunny May morning, Carl steps into the kitchen to kiss his bride of 30 years.  Emma is preparing his favorite breakfast with an extra helping of love.  The kitchen is filled with the delicious smells of crispy bacon, hot coffee, and perfectly browned waffles.

As Carl enjoys a perfect breakfast with Emma, their thoughts center on the plans for the day.  The couple, living near Noxon, appreciates the isolated beauty of northwestern Montana.  With a population just over 200, the small town atmosphere suits Carl and Emma just fine.  Noxon sits along Montana Highway 200 with the Clark Fork River flowing about a quarter mile from their cozy cabin.

Today is Wednesday, which means a trip to town for Carl and Emma. They complete their weekly shopping one day each week, and Wednesday offers them a chance to leave their pristine, yet isolated home.  Since Carl and Emma arrived in the area nearly 30 years ago, they live almost like hermits in the trees along the Clark Fork.  Very few of the local folks pay much attention to the quiet, retired couple.

As Carl and Emma prepare for their weekly shopping in Noxon, a newcomer arrives in town.  Pete Martin, formerly Chief Detective Martin of the St. Louis Police Department, has traveled to the northwestern corner of Montana for a long-awaited fishing trip.  Since losing his wife to a long-term illness a few years ago, his friends have been urging the retired detective to take such a journey.

Now that you have read the beginning of the story, I am sure your mind is filling with what may happen next.  There is much work to go on this story, and dialogue needs to be added between the three main characters.   I don’t have an exact completion date in mind, but sometime this fall should be a tentative deadline.

What’s for Breakfast?

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Growing up with a band of brothers, there was a common refrain at my childhood home, “What’s for breakfast?”

However, in order to answer this question, one must return to dinner the night before.

Our mother, in her desire to provide our growing, young bodies with nutrition, decided to try a new vegetable for dinner.  Do diced beets from a can catch your fancy?

Being used to green beans, peas, and corn, my brothers and I looked at the beets with their strange color and unappetizing smell, and we knew these little morsels would taste just awful. 

All of us went on strike at dinnertime . . . refusing to eat any of the beets.

Our father wasn’t a happy camper with our decision.  In fact, he became quite animated that we should all try a sample at dinner.  Yet, we refused to budge.

Finally, our enlightened father drew a line in the sand (or on the table), “If you don’t try these beets tonight, you can have them for breakfast in the morning.”

Morning arrived, and instead of our usual Cream of Wheat or Quaker Oatmeal, our breakfast menu consisted of those horrible red beet squares.  My brothers and I held fast—NO BEETS!

Our mother was paying close attention to her sons.  Never again did she include beets with a meal.

To this day, I still won’t eat beets, no matter how they are prepared.  I think my brothers probably feel the same way.  Do you have a least favorite vegetable?