Miss Missy Elocutes

Missy

Jack is busy finishing the paperwork for his town council run, so we appreciate Missy stepping in to write this week’s guest blog.

Good afternoon. My name is Missy and I am Foster Cat in Residence at Tales of the Lonesome Pine Used Books. They have invited me to live in their efficiency apartment while I sort my circumstances.

Nothing sordid, mind you, but I was living with a family of six cats and one human staff member up until November of last year, when our housekeeper’s big heart finally gave out. We were all very sad; she was such a good woman.

Of course we had no idea what was in store for us, but we were quickly split up and sent to stay with relations. My companion Smudge and I wound up here. I wouldn’t say a word against Smudge, but let me assure you, we shared nothing but the bills and housekeeping chores.

missy sittingSmudge was quickly adopted, but I’ve been here at the bookstore’s Hostel for Distressed Gentlecats about a month now. My time has not been idle. I’ve run up a pair of curtains for the windows and given the hardwood floor a good scrubbing. I’ve also improved the manners of the staff, and let me tell you, they needed some work. There seem to be four cats in permanent residence, and they had let things slide considerably. I even had to put up a fuss until a clean white towel was arranged under my food service area.

They are kind people, and I know they mean well, but the heart longs for a home of its own, does it not? I would like nothing more than to pack my (clean) ramekins and fluffy pillow, put on my good hat, and go out the door to a quieter, gentler place. While I don’t mind dogs as such, they do make quite a lot of noise. Really, I think it would be ideal for me to live in a home with a couple of younger cats. I could teach them deportment, and the finer points of life, like keeping one’s sleeping area clean, and how to brew a perfect cup of catnip tea. In the afternoon, as they dozed on the verandah, I could read them stories of a morally uplifting nature.

missy walkingAnd while a lady hesitates to discuss private matters, I am of a certain age (oh, all right, seven) and have been… {ahem} seen to down there.

So really, I’m only waiting for the right home to come along: quiet, calm, and with a housekeeper who is prepared to brush my fur at least twice a day. As I say, the people here are kind, but they do seem busy, and I really cannot abide missing a brushing. If you think you could provide these simple needs, do please stop by so we can discuss room requirements and mutual expectations. Thank you for this little chat, and I look forward to getting to know you better soon.

Warm Fuzzies

prayer shawlsWe have a lot of book groups and girlfriend posses through our shop, but on Monday past the women of Hiltons Methodist Church came bearing gifts.

Prayer shawls, and chemo hats and scarves for the community. Made with love and prayers for healing, and yarn in pretty, bright colors.

It was frighteningly easy to get those distributed. Jack and I immediately set aside some for cancer fighters we knew: an elegant executive approaching retirement coping with breast cancer; a buoyant cat rescuer who lets nothing get her down, including chemo; a young mom facing killer lymphoma; one of my most feminine ever friends, a healthy-eating, beautiful, petite woman who has that rare kind of cancer prevalent in men of African descent; and a 12-year-old boy (who got the camouflage lap blanket).

The rest we gave to my friend Leigh Anne – herself fighting cancer, and the director of our local cancer center – to bless those who might have less family and friends around them when they need a warm fuzzy moment.

Of all the things Little Bookstore has done, this might be the nicest: that people bring to our community gifts of love from theirs. When I put out an appeal last summer for postcards, so the Quakers doing prison visits could send them to guys in the federal penitentiary, y’all sent 400 cards, plus the nicest notes, and even sheets of stamps. When my friend and I stared making “spay and neuter afghans” to pay for the cats of Wise County being rendered non-reproductive, people on the West and East coasts and many places in between bought them.

And when I’ve blogged about friends in need–Sue’s bookstore in Wisconsin, the stealing of Elissa’s dog rescue raffle money–responses have been practical, and sweet, and positive. Sure there’s stuff that goes wrong with the world, but while there are women knitting prayer shawls filled with love, how bad can it be?

Stay warm, y’all.