Tea and Kindness

I was snuggled into my couch as I seem to found myself calling it . My world was this couch, my blankets , my maple wooded tea table and the warm, green walls and the green plaid curtains that framed the glass doors making up the far wall . My garden, just on the other side, was small , protected and filled with a colorful collection of flowers that nodded gently in the wind, coming into the U-shaped patio. I snuggled closer into the soft , large cushions that enveloped me and kept me safe.

Safe in my lair , warm under my covers, I heard my stomach growl, . I chuckled ” a rumbly in my tumbly” Pooh would say. Thinking of Winnie -the-Pooh stories that were one of my mother’s favorite stories to read to us kids. Pooh was always hungry, ” a smakerel of honey would be a good thing indeed.” I poked my nose out of my blanket , wondering how far the hundred Acres woods were from where I was. Who knows ,I mean I don’t know exactly where I am. Perchance, my good lady. Rabbit could be chasing Tigger and Roo out of his garden, not terribly far from here . I sniffed in a way that would make Piglet and Pooh quite proud of me.

I shook my head a bit. I swear I thought I smelled honey. I licked my lips and hugged my stomach. ” A smakerel of honey on warm, flaky crescent rolls hot from the oven. Or, I smiled, a thumb hole in the side of the warm, crumbly biscuit with butter and white sugar or molasses in the hole until it ran out and make a dripping river down onto the plate. I drew in a deep breathe and slipped into a memory of my grandmother’s kitchen table and country wrapped around chairs. Grits, butter, biscuits and a big platter of limp and crispy bacon all in their places in the center of the table. Family style she called it. I have no idea when I could get it or even where.

“I don’t know where she is , I thought I saw her out the window running around like a sentry on the trail. ” The voice was behind me. I recognize it , I had heard it before. I think she was Rose? ” I know that she is feeling lost and lonely. I would be too. I haven’t seen her at the dining room and I was told she hasn’t been to the kitchen. ” She was opening and shutting some door . ” I am getting worried , I don’t think she is eating. I know she is scared and insecure ” The voice was low and tense. Another voice started in. ” I can’t find out anything. His was a tense, creamy voice, like a vampire. ” People are out, asking questions and getting stonewalled. I have no information . I have checked and checked . I even talked to the forestry people. There is only a couple of reports even close to what could be counted as information. There is just no information that can be verified. He huffed and coughed . ” She can just stay with us. She is a kind and scared little pup and -well- he cleared his throat. There is no reason she can’t stay here. We have room and plenty of stuff . I , on the other hand am starved and cold. The wind is really scattering seed and the temperature is dropping.” His voice dropped even lower and muffled.” This is naw night for beasts to be off shelter.” He sniffed and she giggled. “some one is going to catch you some day”.

I breathes in deeply and said a prayer of thanksgiving and hope. The smell of sweetness making my mouth water. The smell was fading away. I didn’t want to lose Pooh or let him go alone to search out honey. Now, could I? I sat up and searched for my shoes below the couch. All I had to do was follow the call of the honey, right? I stood up and closed my eyes , concentrating on the essence of honey. Ok, that a way. I opened my eyes and started walking towards the smell of food coming from the hall somewhere.

Past the redwood walls , how they have manage that feat, I don’t know. I thought Redwoods were protected in the Muir Park in California. They were burnished and gleamed in t he soft light coming from lamps fasted to the walls. Sconces were a mystery to me. They seem to be attached to a wall ,floating on air. I passed by a honey colored carved bench. The smell of sweetness(honey?) was quite strong and I leaned forward to sniff the wood on the two seater, wither and cushioned bench. No, the wood smelled of resin, and fruity oil. The smell of that “smackerl” was very pungent and I took in a deep breath. My mouth watered and I couldn’t remember what I had eaten earlier. A biscuit and sugar laying on the side table at sunrise. I never knew from where it came. I supposed I should have been my curious. There were just too many fears, frustrations, confusions stuffing my head. I felt a bit like an overstuffed animal. Piglet? My” tumbly” seem to be spilling and twisting. I put my arm around my waist. I could really use some of that tea I had last night.

I heard noises coming from behind the bench? Then I saw a thin crack in the walls . I pushed and a door pushed in . Inside was a long dark blue wooden expanse. It was holding a large collection of dishes and covered silver pieces ( larger than Mom’s) . There were forks , knives and spoons that reflected the blue from underneath with a pearly glitter. This was the dining place obviously or at least a rather large serving table. I couldn’t see the end of it. I didn’t know if I could be here. There was bright pink glow behind the box in the middle. I leaned against the wall and found hard edges jutted into the back. Was there nothing that worked like before? My gut was squeezing again. I wanted to float away holding on to the balloon to rise up to the honey hive and get something to eat. The only solid I felt was a soft fabric over a hard thin edge.

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