Cuthbert and DeHavilland Dine

Friends can agree to disagree and still remain friends. Really. It’s true. I’ve seen it happen.

Early one recent morning I became privy to an intense conversation taking place in our backyard.

Can you tell I’ve been reading lots of early 20th century authors?

Anyway, this fine morning, the stars still out and the sun yet to shrug off sleepiness, an intense conversation.

No conflict, no raised voices, no threats, simply two friends enjoying each other’s cerebrations over a good meal.

Have you ever had that joy? Being with someone you love and admire, someone who’s intellect alone brings you joy, someone whose each word opens vistas previously unknown to you?

Ah, it is a joy.

It is also, for me and alas, a challenge to find. People are often too opinionated. They state what they heard, not what they know. They don’t question information so much as naively accept it as if it were inscribed on the Third Tablet from Mount Horeb.

I don’t mind opinions so long as the opinionator understands I may have one that differs.

It is in the differences that we learn.

Or I do, anyway.

It’s nice to find refuge in those of a similar mind, similar opinion, yes.

How much more glorious to find refuge with those with whom you disagree? To know that here there is safe argument, there is welcomed dissent, to be envigored in the arms of mutual respect, concern and a desire to understand all viewpoints, …

And now the kicker; to agree to disagree and still be friends.

This is prevalent in The Wild, as witnessed by Cuthbert and DeHavilland.

Enjoy your discussion, friends. I can but sit and admire.

 
PS) DeHavilland is the shy one.

The Chatter After Lights Out

New Life, Old Magic

It’s Spring again. Another 365.something day tour around our own little star. Isn’t it grand? Do you take for granted your travels on Spaceship Earth? Our home isn’t stuck on some foundation with a permanent address that can be viewed on Google Maps.

No, far from it. We’re traveling. We are travelers without knowing from whence we came or where we go.

The Old Ones know this. They take nothing for granted.

Except cookies and peanuts.

From yours truly.

Opie and Opette come to dine nightly, as does Vincenzi the Fox. Gladys and her crowd come by during the day.

Most recently we’ve been guested by Verne, one of Hecate’s kits. There are two others who also come by and say hello, although usually after we’ve shut off the lights and are in bed. We hear them talking; “Pass the peanuts?” and “Is that fresh water?” and “Any more cookies?”

And we’ll see them and other Old Ones through the year and through the years. All of them come to us. We’re a house of magic. So they tell us.

We believe. Old Ones don’t lie.

Say hello to Verne, all.

Chester and Sylvie

The kits are out and about

A few weeks back I wrote Vasch and Euste Join Us for Some Casual Dining. I have mentioned the possibility of fox kits in Vasch the Fox. We knew kits were out there (we’d heard them crying more than one night) and waited patiently until they made their presence known.

Sure enough, a few nights back that’s just what they did.

Welcome Chester and Sylvie, Vasch and Euste’s kits from earlier this year (we think).

We, of course, are thrilled that Chester and Sylvie have human-pronounceable names.

But they are fox.

They could be foolin’ us.

Vasch and Euste Join Us for Some Casual Dining

Table for Two?

I mentioned Vasch and Euste in an earlier post about one of their kits, Pascha. Specifically, I asked Pascha to tell his folks that the tavern is still open.

Good kit that he is, he hurried home to let his folks know.

A few nights later Vasch and Euste graced our table. Casual dining, of course, nothing fancy and always lots of fun.

You’ll note that Vasch goes to check the salad bar. Loves his greens, that one.

Pascha the Fox

Children amongst The Old Ones

Cooler nights bring different friends to our tavern. Often these are new friends, children of old friends. These new friends tell us of their parents. Some have moved on, some have passed on, some are still around and we say, “Say hello for us. Let them know the tavern’s still open. Best ale, grog, mead and fixen’s around.”

Case in point, Pascha the Fox. Pascha is Vasch and Euste‘s kit from a few years back, come a visitin’.

One wonders if, having graduated from college somewhere, he’s returned to live in their basement for a while until he figures out what he wants to do, until he “finds himself”.

We’ve done the best we could with you, now it’s time for you to be on your own.

 
Such things don’t happen in The Wild. Once out of the nest, you’re out of the nest. Offspring and siblings will return and sometimes the greetings are warm and friendly, more often not.

The Wild is older – much older – and definitely wiser – far wiser – than Two-Legs. It’s “We’ve done the best we could with you, now it’s time for you to be on your own.”

Still, Pascha came through and we gave him good greetings.

I mean, wouldn’t you? He is a fox.