Stripping away the rose colored glasses of denial concerning my reality. Getting in touch with truth. Reaching out to others in empathy concerning their reality and their walk to truth.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Alistair Cookie: the great outdoors!

Hello again: Alistair Cookie here!

Not to be confused with a man I greatly admire:
[Alistair Cooke KBE, Order of the British Empire (November 20, 1908-March 30, 2004) was a British-born American journalist, broadcaster and presenter.

Though we are both gifted narrators, I hope you note the difference in the spelling of our names. If I interpret correctly he was a cook, whereas I am an eater of cookies, which someone else cooks! Delightful; however today I want to narrate my harrowing experience with the great outdoors.

Where to begin? I was sitting at the large glass door, looking out when I spied a most attractive bird splashing in our outside tubby. Oh to be there and ask if the water was warm enough. Quite suddenly the glass door opened and one of my bigger, little friends, bounced in to retrieve more juice… leaving the door opened!

The freshness of the air caught me by surprise and I leaped for the pathway to liberty. Crawling hard and fast, I picked up tiny stones with my fingers and ouch, it was terrible but I thought not to wail and draw attention to my flight into the yard.

Onto the grass and a softness comparable to my coveted blankie, greeted me; I felt right at home for a while. In my peripheral vision something akin to the buzzing of Mum’s dryer circled my head; a tiny something with little hands and legs, smaller than mine. Oh joy, I thought as I tried to narrate with him about the great outdoors, and to shake his tiny hand, whereupon he landed and bit me! Nasty and vile pain, I could not help but scream at the top of my small developed lungs: “uh…wowwwww!”

I, Alistair Cookie, will not let the small things get to me today, nor allow trouble to be thought, ‘hanging outside my door’. I shall go and find positive creatures to narrate to and rediscover the joy of sky and land. But first, I need to go wash off the cookie crumbs.


  1. Well hello Alistair Cookie! I hope you are having a really good time. My oh my! You are such a clever little writer!
    I think it is very nice that you saw a bird in the tubby. You sound like you have a great love of nature.
    I think you were very brave not to cry when you hurt your fingers. I hope they are better now.
    That must have been a nasty surprise when you went: "to shake his tiny hand, whereupon he landed and bit me!" I think I would have also screamed: “uh…wowwwww!” If that had happened to me!
    You sure did have quite the adventure in the 'great outdoors'! Hope you managed to get off all the cookie crumbs.
    I live in a little country named England, Alistair Cookie. In England, 'cookies' are called 'biscuits'. Next time I have a biscuit, I shall make sure I wash off the crumbs. Hope you have a nice day Alistair

  2. Klahanie: How wonderful that you hail from the home of my hero! And do you also have a Mr. Biscuit? You see, I'm at that age where everything makes it's way to the mouth; even that nasty bee.
    Nature is wonderful and Papa says if I don't leave the squirrel alone I might end up in the tree. Ah but that's another narration for another time.
    Your empathy is not lost on me, Sir Klahanie; I bid you good day.
    This is Alistair Cookie signing off.


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