Encounterlogs
Janettes Odd Encounter Sr Magnus
In the quiet suburban neighborhood of Guardian Lane, Janette makes her way towards town with the careful guidance of her cane. As darkness envelops the lane and a distressed meowing reaches her ears, she is approached by Mrs. Henderson, a tender-hearted neighbor desperate to have her cat, Beelzebub, rescued from the high branches of a nearby tree. Mrs. Henderson mistakenly refers to the cat as Henry in her distress, a name belonging to her husband who is away at work. Eager to help, Janette cautiously sets out with her considerable empathy to rescue the feline, despite her own visual impairment.
With some logistical planning, Janette and Mrs. Henderson retrieve a ladder from the older woman's shed. As the elderly lady struggles with the ladder, Janette suggests they carry it together. They place the ladder against the tree, and after securing it with bricks, Janette confidently ascends. Once she's high enough, Janette uses the sound of the cat’s cries to gradually approach Beelzebub, who, terrified and shivering in the cold, readily clings to her with a purr of relief. Mrs. Henderson beams with joy and thanks Janette profusely, insisting on rewarding her kindness with baked treats and conversations about gardening. Though Janette promises to connect another time, she must continue on to work, leaving the affair with an offer of camaraderie and a display of her neighborly spirit.
(Janette's odd encounter(SRMagnus):SRMagnus)
[Mon Jan 15 2024]
On Guardian lane
The hard-packed dirt road is wide enough for two cars to passs but just barely. Along each side, the foliage has been left to grow as it will with no attempt to tame it or trim it for appearance. Overhead, the tree branches grow thicker than previous, causing more of the shade during the day and an even deeper darkness at night.
It is night, about 32F(0C) degrees, There is a waxing crescent moon.
(Your target has been flagged down by someone who wants their help getting their cat down from a tree.
)
Having paused to one side of the path to check her phone and fire off a quick reply, Janette sweeps her cane in a half arch across the hardpacked dirt road in front of her, the bottom most joint narrowly missing the back wheel of a parked car. She steadies her hand, wincing at the proximity and how close she'd come to possibly scratching the vehicle. Taking a few steps back and closer to the middle of the road she tries again, more careful to avoid the obstruction altogether, then stops again to wait, listening carefully as another car cruises right passed her towards the highway. A smile curls the corners of her mouth and she squares her shoulders again, angling her forearm just so and takes a step forward with renewed confidence to traverse the remaining 700 feet or so of old Guardian lane towards town.
As Janette progresses down Guardian Lane, the rhythmic tap of her cane echoes softly against the backdrop of the sleepy neighborhood. The air is filled with the scents of freshly mowed lawns and the distant aroma of someone's barbeque. The sounds of the suburban afternoon are a gentle symphony: children laughing in the distance, birds chirping in the trees, and the occasional car rolling by. Suddenly, the tranquility is pierced by a distressed meowing. Janette's ears pick up the sound, coming from her right. It's persistent and seems to be coming from above. Accompanying the meowing, she hears the faint rustle of leaves and the creak of a tree branch.
"Excuse me!" calls out a voice, slightly strained and laced with worry. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but could you help me? My cat, Beelzebub, has climbed up this tree and wont come down. I'm a bit too old to climb up after him." The voice belongs to Mrs. Henderson, a neighbor known for her kindly nature and her affection for her feline companion. Janette can hear the concern in her voice, mingling with the sounds of the cat's distress high in the branches of the tree.
The empathy so well known to the young woman's neighbors now floods Janette's expression, the tip of her cane brushing back along the ground to tap against the side of her booted foot as she turns to the kindly elder. She tips her head back, her sightless gaze drifting towards the distressed meowing coming from the branches of the arborean giant, one of many that lines this road. She frowns, taking a tentative step towards the tree, the sound of a new neighbor hammering stubbornly at his half-erect porch dominating all but the cat's desperate plees. "Does he look hurt?" she asks readily, her attention focused mostly on the cat than the woman ringing her hands in worry beside her. "Is he just trying to figure out a way down or is he stuck up there? It'll help me figure out how to best get him down."
Janette's keen sense of hearing paints a clear picture of the scene. She hears Mrs. Henderson's anxious breathing and the occasional shuffle of her feet. The cat's meows echo from above, each cry sharp and distinct against the backdrop of the quiet street."He doesn't look hurt, but I think he got spooked by a barking dog in the back of one of the trucks that came up the road. His name is Henry," Mrs. Henderson replies, her voice softening at the mention of her pet's name." Mrs. Henderson smoothes out her apron as she mentions, "I was cooking some pies and Henry loves to get underfoot, so I shooed him out of the kitchen. I think he's just stuck up there and can't find a way down after he was spooked.""
Mrs. Henders corrects herself. "I mean to say that Beelzebub is from my husband, Henry. He's away at work right now."
Janette nods thoughtfully, stepping to the foot of the tree and laying her palm flat against the bark. "It might just be too high for him," she supposes, tilting her head to judge the feline's altitude by his cries. "A ladder wouldn't do to get him down, he won't have sure footing. But it could get me closer to go get him if you have one..."
Mrs. Henderson's voice perks up with a mix of relief and worry. "Oh, I do have a ladder, dear. It's just in my backyard. But are you sure? It's quite high, and I wouldn't want you to risk yourself. But I can get the ladder and pull it back over here. Follow me to my shed. They make their way to Mrs. Henderson's backyard, to an old wooden shed filled full of all sorts of gardening tools, a lawn mower, and a wheelbarrow. She looks around and finds a six foot step ladder, moving into fetch it and drag it out as she nods to Janette, "We'll take this back to the tree and you or I can climb up it while the other holds the bottom, all right, honey?""
Mrs. Henderson's voice perks up with a mix of relief and worry. "Oh, I do have a ladder, dear. It's just in my backyard. But are you sure? It's quite high, and I wouldn't want you to risk yourself. But I can get the ladder and pull it back over here. Follow me to my shed." They make their way to Mrs. Henderson's backyard, to an old wooden shed filled full of all sorts of gardening tools, a lawn mower, and a wheelbarrow. She looks around and finds a six foot step ladder, moving into fetch it and drag it out as she nods to Janette, "We'll take this back to the tree and you or I can climb up it while the other holds the bottom, all right, honey?" (fix)
Even without the luxury of her sight, it's clear enough to Janette how the frail diminutive woman can handle the long heavy tool with nothing less than awkward difficulty. "Why don't we hold it between us," she suggests. "You take the front end and I'll follow you to the tree, yeah? I can lean it against the trunk and go up for Bells myself in case the ladder doesn't reach that high. It's still a leg up I won't have to climb from the bottom," she chuckles, slipping the folded cane into her black leather satchel so it's out of the way.
Smoothing out her apron, the lady replies back to Janette, "Yes, dearie." Mrs. Henderson says as she takes her half of the ladder, the front half, and rounds from the back of the house to the front of the house, taking care to avoid the garden hose snaking around her lovely back garden and to the tree in the front where her cat is still meowing, putting the ladder down gently as he tells Janette, "Here we go. Do you do any gardening? I do say there's some lovely rose bushes down the lane here, I'm curious of who lives in some of those houses."
"My fiance and I live just up the lane near the end there," Janette offers as she sets down her end of the ladder and turns to point to the south. "Ours is the single level house with the swing out front and the bird feeder. We get quite a few critters especially in the spring." She takes a few steps along the resting ladder, taking it by the edge and pulling it carefully upright to lean against the tree, taking a minute to find a steady angle. "A brick or two could help hold this steady... But hell if I'm dragging that over down the lane," she chuckles, testing the sturdyness of the ladder against the ground. "I'll have to do... I'll be quick about it just in case."
"Oh, that's fine honey. I have some bricks in the garden on the edge." SRMagnus says as he goes and gets some patio bricks and comes back, placing them at the foot of the ladder as she says, "Do you want to hold the ladder or climb up there and make kissy noises at Beelzebub? Oh! Do you have any treats? I must have ran out of them." she notes as she pats on her apron. "If you have anything that can get him down, that would be very good, dear."
"I'm sure I'll manage," the younger woman smiles, testing the ladder again before she shrugs off her satchel and starts up it with relative ease, stopping only at the third rung from the very top and listening for the cat a new. Another step, hands trailing carefully up the bark until she's finally at the very top of the ladder, letting the massive tree take half her weight. "Any branches?" Janette calls to the elderly woman below, taking care not to shift her weight and upset her balance on the ladder.
Beelzebub for his part, is mewling quite angrily, as if it's their fault that he's stuck up in that tree. The tail flicks back and forth, yowling for food as his claws are sunk deeply in the bough of branches that he has settled into, the cold of winter setting in as he shivers."
Mrs. Henderson says, "You're almost there. Just another step and you'll be able to reach out for him.""
Janette's fingers catch on the joint of a limb branching widely almost straight out from the trunk. With no more rungs to climb she steels herself, clinging to the trunk and checking her footing before she starts to climb, every careful inch of gained altitude bringing her foot closer and closer to the limb. Once it's by her hip, she shifts precariously so her hip scrapes across the harsh bark of the tree, the opposite leg bending to bring up and over the thick branch in a desperate straddle with her back against the main arborean body of the giant. She sits up straighter, taking a second to breathe while she faces the hissing cat, then she smiles. A low rumbling sound comes from her throat, soft and quiet at first though she still does not move. Only as the sound gradually becomes louder, does it sound like actual, unmistakable purring.
As Janette coaxes Beelzebub the cat out, he starts to pur, those hands held out like a saving grace as the cat leaps into her arms, claws clutching deeply into her coat as the cat clings onto her rather painfully for dear life, but purring all the same as it attempts to nuzzle deeper into her jacket. "Oh, you've got him!" Mrs. Henderson says from below, taking a few moments to clap excitedly as she then dutifully goes back to holding the ladder, "Just a few steps down and you'll be my hero of the day!" she cheers.
Janette can't help but giggle a little at the over excited feline, fingers gingerly combing the soft fur puffed up from his panic. She lets the cat cling to her, wincing only once or twice when his sharp, needle-like claws find bare skin in his efforts to snuggle into her jacket. Her hands move gently to ease the soft paws, urging him to retract his scythes before hugging him affectionately into the folds of her jacket. "Well. This is gonna be a bit more complicated..." she laughs, noting the distance between limb and ladder, until another idea strikes her. "Do you think you can manage the ladder a bit closer around the trunk?" she calls down, fingertips scratching at the cat's chin and under his ear now to soothe him. "And maybe, a bit flatter against it so the top step is higher up the tree, then I can swing down and reach it. Just, not all the way or we'll both be tumbling down worse than Jack and Jill," she laughs.
"Oh!" Mrs. Henderson notes as she nods to Janette, "Let me see if I can wiggle it closer, dearie." she dusts her hands off on her apron and sets her feet, picking up the ladder to shuffle it closer to the tree. She then leans over and moves the patio bricks that anchor it next to the base of the ladder. Taking both hands and rubbing them together in spite of the cold, SRMagnus gets in a wider stance, leaning against the ladder with her weight to steady it as she looks up at Janette and Beelzebub the cat together, "Oh dearie me, he's taken to you like a natural! He's usually so fussy about anyone holding him. You must be a cat whisperer! And without any treats! Glory me, what good neighbors we have."
"Something like that," Janette chuckles, nodding to herself while she listens to where the top of the ladder brushed against the tree. With one arm wrapped protectively around the cat, now nessled snugly in her jacket, she murmurs something quietly to him, resting her other hand firmly around the limb, then lets herself drop, using the trunk as a control for her fall until her feet mercifully touch not the first, but the second rung from the top. "Oh thank the gods," she breathes, laughing to herself in relief. She waits to adjust her footing before letting go of the branch, her hand sliding along it with a wince towards the trunk to use as leverage down. Before long, she's back with both feet planted firmly on the manicured lawn, cat still purring happily in her arms. "One happy purry Beelzebub, snug and warm and ready for his milk," she grins, taking a step towards the older woman.
"Holding out her hands to Janette, Mrs. Henderson beams a big smile back at her as she carefully extracts the cat from Janette's hands and coat, "You little naughty boy, Bubby! Just you wait until your dad hears about this. You're getting sour milk from now on until you give Miss Janette here enough snuggles until she's satisfied." The older lady wags her finger at the cat as the cat closes it's eyes and purrs happily in her arms, ignoring her like cats do. She huffs and turns back to Janette as she muses, "Well, Henry and I will have to bake you something, Miss Janette. Thank you so much for your help. We should get together sometime and talk about gardening, your landscaping is just so beautiful down the lane.""
Janette beams a smile at the elderly neighbor, scraped hands dusting off dirt and fybers before rubbing the aches out of her arms and legs. "It's a joined effort really," she grins. "Fiance helps with the plants and feeders when I'm stuck at work now. I'd love to talk bushworking though," she agrees. "And baking! I aught to get back into that some time this week, haven't done anything since Christmas."
"Oh dearie me, Janette, yes! I'll have to meet your Fiancee as well as you meeting my wonderful husband Henry. He's kind of a grouch sometimes, you know, but he'll come around." she says with a wink, "You know his favorite thing in the world is peanut brittle. He just eats it all up, so you could really make his day by making some of that." she bounces slightly with the cat in her arms as she complains, "And it's so cold out here, Janette! You're gonna catch your death! Let's get inside and get out of this dreaded weather!"
"I think I like him already," the young woman laughs, pacing carefully back to the tree to pick up her satchel. "I'd really love to," she says, her tone apologetic. "But I was on my way to town when you saw me and I really should get to the store. My employee will be wondering where I got to. Maybe another time?" Janette suggests hopefully.
Nodding to her, Mrs. Henderson waves to her as she turns back to her house, "Oh, you have a pleasant day, Janette. I hope you do well at work!"
With some logistical planning, Janette and Mrs. Henderson retrieve a ladder from the older woman's shed. As the elderly lady struggles with the ladder, Janette suggests they carry it together. They place the ladder against the tree, and after securing it with bricks, Janette confidently ascends. Once she's high enough, Janette uses the sound of the cat’s cries to gradually approach Beelzebub, who, terrified and shivering in the cold, readily clings to her with a purr of relief. Mrs. Henderson beams with joy and thanks Janette profusely, insisting on rewarding her kindness with baked treats and conversations about gardening. Though Janette promises to connect another time, she must continue on to work, leaving the affair with an offer of camaraderie and a display of her neighborly spirit.
(Janette's odd encounter(SRMagnus):SRMagnus)
[Mon Jan 15 2024]
On Guardian lane
The hard-packed dirt road is wide enough for two cars to passs but just barely. Along each side, the foliage has been left to grow as it will with no attempt to tame it or trim it for appearance. Overhead, the tree branches grow thicker than previous, causing more of the shade during the day and an even deeper darkness at night.
It is night, about 32F(0C) degrees, There is a waxing crescent moon.
(Your target has been flagged down by someone who wants their help getting their cat down from a tree.
)
Having paused to one side of the path to check her phone and fire off a quick reply, Janette sweeps her cane in a half arch across the hardpacked dirt road in front of her, the bottom most joint narrowly missing the back wheel of a parked car. She steadies her hand, wincing at the proximity and how close she'd come to possibly scratching the vehicle. Taking a few steps back and closer to the middle of the road she tries again, more careful to avoid the obstruction altogether, then stops again to wait, listening carefully as another car cruises right passed her towards the highway. A smile curls the corners of her mouth and she squares her shoulders again, angling her forearm just so and takes a step forward with renewed confidence to traverse the remaining 700 feet or so of old Guardian lane towards town.
As Janette progresses down Guardian Lane, the rhythmic tap of her cane echoes softly against the backdrop of the sleepy neighborhood. The air is filled with the scents of freshly mowed lawns and the distant aroma of someone's barbeque. The sounds of the suburban afternoon are a gentle symphony: children laughing in the distance, birds chirping in the trees, and the occasional car rolling by. Suddenly, the tranquility is pierced by a distressed meowing. Janette's ears pick up the sound, coming from her right. It's persistent and seems to be coming from above. Accompanying the meowing, she hears the faint rustle of leaves and the creak of a tree branch.
"Excuse me!" calls out a voice, slightly strained and laced with worry. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but could you help me? My cat, Beelzebub, has climbed up this tree and wont come down. I'm a bit too old to climb up after him." The voice belongs to Mrs. Henderson, a neighbor known for her kindly nature and her affection for her feline companion. Janette can hear the concern in her voice, mingling with the sounds of the cat's distress high in the branches of the tree.
The empathy so well known to the young woman's neighbors now floods Janette's expression, the tip of her cane brushing back along the ground to tap against the side of her booted foot as she turns to the kindly elder. She tips her head back, her sightless gaze drifting towards the distressed meowing coming from the branches of the arborean giant, one of many that lines this road. She frowns, taking a tentative step towards the tree, the sound of a new neighbor hammering stubbornly at his half-erect porch dominating all but the cat's desperate plees. "Does he look hurt?" she asks readily, her attention focused mostly on the cat than the woman ringing her hands in worry beside her. "Is he just trying to figure out a way down or is he stuck up there? It'll help me figure out how to best get him down."
Janette's keen sense of hearing paints a clear picture of the scene. She hears Mrs. Henderson's anxious breathing and the occasional shuffle of her feet. The cat's meows echo from above, each cry sharp and distinct against the backdrop of the quiet street."He doesn't look hurt, but I think he got spooked by a barking dog in the back of one of the trucks that came up the road. His name is Henry," Mrs. Henderson replies, her voice softening at the mention of her pet's name." Mrs. Henderson smoothes out her apron as she mentions, "I was cooking some pies and Henry loves to get underfoot, so I shooed him out of the kitchen. I think he's just stuck up there and can't find a way down after he was spooked.""
Mrs. Henders corrects herself. "I mean to say that Beelzebub is from my husband, Henry. He's away at work right now."
Janette nods thoughtfully, stepping to the foot of the tree and laying her palm flat against the bark. "It might just be too high for him," she supposes, tilting her head to judge the feline's altitude by his cries. "A ladder wouldn't do to get him down, he won't have sure footing. But it could get me closer to go get him if you have one..."
Mrs. Henderson's voice perks up with a mix of relief and worry. "Oh, I do have a ladder, dear. It's just in my backyard. But are you sure? It's quite high, and I wouldn't want you to risk yourself. But I can get the ladder and pull it back over here. Follow me to my shed. They make their way to Mrs. Henderson's backyard, to an old wooden shed filled full of all sorts of gardening tools, a lawn mower, and a wheelbarrow. She looks around and finds a six foot step ladder, moving into fetch it and drag it out as she nods to Janette, "We'll take this back to the tree and you or I can climb up it while the other holds the bottom, all right, honey?""
Mrs. Henderson's voice perks up with a mix of relief and worry. "Oh, I do have a ladder, dear. It's just in my backyard. But are you sure? It's quite high, and I wouldn't want you to risk yourself. But I can get the ladder and pull it back over here. Follow me to my shed." They make their way to Mrs. Henderson's backyard, to an old wooden shed filled full of all sorts of gardening tools, a lawn mower, and a wheelbarrow. She looks around and finds a six foot step ladder, moving into fetch it and drag it out as she nods to Janette, "We'll take this back to the tree and you or I can climb up it while the other holds the bottom, all right, honey?" (fix)
Even without the luxury of her sight, it's clear enough to Janette how the frail diminutive woman can handle the long heavy tool with nothing less than awkward difficulty. "Why don't we hold it between us," she suggests. "You take the front end and I'll follow you to the tree, yeah? I can lean it against the trunk and go up for Bells myself in case the ladder doesn't reach that high. It's still a leg up I won't have to climb from the bottom," she chuckles, slipping the folded cane into her black leather satchel so it's out of the way.
Smoothing out her apron, the lady replies back to Janette, "Yes, dearie." Mrs. Henderson says as she takes her half of the ladder, the front half, and rounds from the back of the house to the front of the house, taking care to avoid the garden hose snaking around her lovely back garden and to the tree in the front where her cat is still meowing, putting the ladder down gently as he tells Janette, "Here we go. Do you do any gardening? I do say there's some lovely rose bushes down the lane here, I'm curious of who lives in some of those houses."
"My fiance and I live just up the lane near the end there," Janette offers as she sets down her end of the ladder and turns to point to the south. "Ours is the single level house with the swing out front and the bird feeder. We get quite a few critters especially in the spring." She takes a few steps along the resting ladder, taking it by the edge and pulling it carefully upright to lean against the tree, taking a minute to find a steady angle. "A brick or two could help hold this steady... But hell if I'm dragging that over down the lane," she chuckles, testing the sturdyness of the ladder against the ground. "I'll have to do... I'll be quick about it just in case."
"Oh, that's fine honey. I have some bricks in the garden on the edge." SRMagnus says as he goes and gets some patio bricks and comes back, placing them at the foot of the ladder as she says, "Do you want to hold the ladder or climb up there and make kissy noises at Beelzebub? Oh! Do you have any treats? I must have ran out of them." she notes as she pats on her apron. "If you have anything that can get him down, that would be very good, dear."
"I'm sure I'll manage," the younger woman smiles, testing the ladder again before she shrugs off her satchel and starts up it with relative ease, stopping only at the third rung from the very top and listening for the cat a new. Another step, hands trailing carefully up the bark until she's finally at the very top of the ladder, letting the massive tree take half her weight. "Any branches?" Janette calls to the elderly woman below, taking care not to shift her weight and upset her balance on the ladder.
Beelzebub for his part, is mewling quite angrily, as if it's their fault that he's stuck up in that tree. The tail flicks back and forth, yowling for food as his claws are sunk deeply in the bough of branches that he has settled into, the cold of winter setting in as he shivers."
Mrs. Henderson says, "You're almost there. Just another step and you'll be able to reach out for him.""
Janette's fingers catch on the joint of a limb branching widely almost straight out from the trunk. With no more rungs to climb she steels herself, clinging to the trunk and checking her footing before she starts to climb, every careful inch of gained altitude bringing her foot closer and closer to the limb. Once it's by her hip, she shifts precariously so her hip scrapes across the harsh bark of the tree, the opposite leg bending to bring up and over the thick branch in a desperate straddle with her back against the main arborean body of the giant. She sits up straighter, taking a second to breathe while she faces the hissing cat, then she smiles. A low rumbling sound comes from her throat, soft and quiet at first though she still does not move. Only as the sound gradually becomes louder, does it sound like actual, unmistakable purring.
As Janette coaxes Beelzebub the cat out, he starts to pur, those hands held out like a saving grace as the cat leaps into her arms, claws clutching deeply into her coat as the cat clings onto her rather painfully for dear life, but purring all the same as it attempts to nuzzle deeper into her jacket. "Oh, you've got him!" Mrs. Henderson says from below, taking a few moments to clap excitedly as she then dutifully goes back to holding the ladder, "Just a few steps down and you'll be my hero of the day!" she cheers.
Janette can't help but giggle a little at the over excited feline, fingers gingerly combing the soft fur puffed up from his panic. She lets the cat cling to her, wincing only once or twice when his sharp, needle-like claws find bare skin in his efforts to snuggle into her jacket. Her hands move gently to ease the soft paws, urging him to retract his scythes before hugging him affectionately into the folds of her jacket. "Well. This is gonna be a bit more complicated..." she laughs, noting the distance between limb and ladder, until another idea strikes her. "Do you think you can manage the ladder a bit closer around the trunk?" she calls down, fingertips scratching at the cat's chin and under his ear now to soothe him. "And maybe, a bit flatter against it so the top step is higher up the tree, then I can swing down and reach it. Just, not all the way or we'll both be tumbling down worse than Jack and Jill," she laughs.
"Oh!" Mrs. Henderson notes as she nods to Janette, "Let me see if I can wiggle it closer, dearie." she dusts her hands off on her apron and sets her feet, picking up the ladder to shuffle it closer to the tree. She then leans over and moves the patio bricks that anchor it next to the base of the ladder. Taking both hands and rubbing them together in spite of the cold, SRMagnus gets in a wider stance, leaning against the ladder with her weight to steady it as she looks up at Janette and Beelzebub the cat together, "Oh dearie me, he's taken to you like a natural! He's usually so fussy about anyone holding him. You must be a cat whisperer! And without any treats! Glory me, what good neighbors we have."
"Something like that," Janette chuckles, nodding to herself while she listens to where the top of the ladder brushed against the tree. With one arm wrapped protectively around the cat, now nessled snugly in her jacket, she murmurs something quietly to him, resting her other hand firmly around the limb, then lets herself drop, using the trunk as a control for her fall until her feet mercifully touch not the first, but the second rung from the top. "Oh thank the gods," she breathes, laughing to herself in relief. She waits to adjust her footing before letting go of the branch, her hand sliding along it with a wince towards the trunk to use as leverage down. Before long, she's back with both feet planted firmly on the manicured lawn, cat still purring happily in her arms. "One happy purry Beelzebub, snug and warm and ready for his milk," she grins, taking a step towards the older woman.
"Holding out her hands to Janette, Mrs. Henderson beams a big smile back at her as she carefully extracts the cat from Janette's hands and coat, "You little naughty boy, Bubby! Just you wait until your dad hears about this. You're getting sour milk from now on until you give Miss Janette here enough snuggles until she's satisfied." The older lady wags her finger at the cat as the cat closes it's eyes and purrs happily in her arms, ignoring her like cats do. She huffs and turns back to Janette as she muses, "Well, Henry and I will have to bake you something, Miss Janette. Thank you so much for your help. We should get together sometime and talk about gardening, your landscaping is just so beautiful down the lane.""
Janette beams a smile at the elderly neighbor, scraped hands dusting off dirt and fybers before rubbing the aches out of her arms and legs. "It's a joined effort really," she grins. "Fiance helps with the plants and feeders when I'm stuck at work now. I'd love to talk bushworking though," she agrees. "And baking! I aught to get back into that some time this week, haven't done anything since Christmas."
"Oh dearie me, Janette, yes! I'll have to meet your Fiancee as well as you meeting my wonderful husband Henry. He's kind of a grouch sometimes, you know, but he'll come around." she says with a wink, "You know his favorite thing in the world is peanut brittle. He just eats it all up, so you could really make his day by making some of that." she bounces slightly with the cat in her arms as she complains, "And it's so cold out here, Janette! You're gonna catch your death! Let's get inside and get out of this dreaded weather!"
"I think I like him already," the young woman laughs, pacing carefully back to the tree to pick up her satchel. "I'd really love to," she says, her tone apologetic. "But I was on my way to town when you saw me and I really should get to the store. My employee will be wondering where I got to. Maybe another time?" Janette suggests hopefully.
Nodding to her, Mrs. Henderson waves to her as she turns back to her house, "Oh, you have a pleasant day, Janette. I hope you do well at work!"