Sparkles fly upward
If you were to ask Leo Tolstoy, spring is the time for new projects. If you were to ask Sparkly, Leo should have gotten a jump-start in winter.
If you were to ask Leo Tolstoy, spring is the time for new projects. If you were to ask Sparkly, Leo should have gotten a jump-start in winter.
April brought us a movie based on the classic arcade game Rampage. April brought us Fred, Dino and Snoop. There are no coincidences.
“April is the cruelest month.” – T.S. Eliot “T.S. Eliot is incorrect.” – Angela Hartley and 120 cats
There are things you don’t believe until you do. And once you do, my sweet stars, do you ever believe.
“What is for you will not pass you by.” I meditate on this. I cogitate on this. I stuff my hungry heart with this. I do not, however, remember this.
We talk about Life more than usual this time of year. Perhaps it’s because we need it so desperately, weary of brown fields and whipping cold. Maybe it’s because Life itself starts getting fidgety and feisty around us, little yellow buds singing protest songs at a grim sky.
Living, breathing, feeling creatures are never as simple as they seem. This kind of complexity can be positive. It can be negative. Or, it can be downright Eva.
We have a long spectrum of cat personalities at Tabby’s Place. Many mosey along that scale in their time here, trending friendly-ward over months or years. But rare is the cat who catapults from I Will Eat Your Face to Mr. Rogers Is My Hero in three weeks.
Rumor has it that a certain small, goofy-faced tuxedo cat was adopted in 2009. Rumor has it that she moved with her Momma down to South Carolina. Rumor has it: never was a cat so loved. Ever. It’s ever so much more than a rumor.
The Winter Olympics are over. The Summer Olympics are distant. The Marathon is consistent.