Sometimes it seems like this old world’s tree is being shaken down to its roots. Nepal. Baltimore. Yemen. Leaves scattered to the four winds. When the foundations are crumbling, what can the righteous do? Borrow the gaze of smaller, sager creatures.
Things change quickly in bloom-time. One day, the garden bed is a faint brown “no.” The next, all the green things yell “yes!” One day, we brace ourselves for kitten season. The next, we have four nursing moms and eighteen vole-sized smidgens.
I’ve been thinking about Queen‘s heart lately. Contrary to popular opinion, it is not an empty hole, The Abyss, or Vladimir Putin’s soul and inspiration.
My barrister friends have often said that, when it comes to law school, if you make it through torts, you can make it. I assumed this famously difficult class on torts must be on the topic of torts, as in, wrongful acts leading to civil legal liability. Now I know: it was on tortoiseshell cats.
You can learn a lot when you listen. This year alone, we’ve learned that what kind of funk is gon’ give it to ya. We’ve learned that someone, somewhere, thought we needed a second Paul Blart: Mall Cop movie. And we’ve learned that cats are sheep are cats.
Sometimes cliches are food. It’s easy to forget, after the 200,000,000th time we read an inspiring quote on Pinterest/Tumblr/insert favorite social medium here, that the inspiring quote was once new to us. New. Nurturing. Needful. Food.
We are all longing for something. When we are in control think we are in control, we can cover this with niceties and propriety. “I’m fine. All’s cool. No worries.” When we are honest, we’re prone to act like Coco.
OK, winter, we get it: you’re stronger than us. You dang near broke Boston. March came in like a lion and out like a friggin’ manticore. Yes, you’re stronger than us. You’re stronger…but we’re cuter. And scrappier. And we have much, much better musical taste.
There is so much news exploding at Tabby’s Place today, you’d think it was the Fourth of July. It isn’t. It’s better.
The ancient Celts spoke fondly of “thin places.” They weren’t talking about Planet Fitness, your wallet, or the top of Ben Kingsley’s head. Divya knows exactly what they were talking about.