Shaky stitches
I want to tell you about two young men. I want to tell you about a world at war. I want to tell you about peace that passes understanding. I want to tell you about the pieces of peace that we’re stitching together, together.
Get it all
One hundred eons ago, there was a restaurant near Tabby’s Place with a menu that touched the divine. There were no fewer than twelve salads, all of which had names like This Train Is Bound For Glory and Every Living Creature Is A Galaxy and The Rocket Man Has The Master Plan. (I swear I […]
Guest post: A masterpiece
PBS has spent almost my entire life reminding us that some television productions and movies are of superior quality to others. Alistair Cooke welcomed us to watch Masterpiece Theater for 21 years, so we could join him in enjoying some of these fine films and series.
Multiple extractions
It’s a song oft-sung at Tabby’s Place: “Insert-Cat-Name-Here had a dental today… …and there were multiple extractions.”
In the final analysis
I’ve lived enough lives to know: you do not need to fall prostrate before anyone who begins sentences with, “In the final analysis…” If it’s final, it’s not much of an analysis. And if it can be analyzed, it’s not a living mystery (e.g. you, me, the cats, the trees, the stars, Paul Rudd).
Guest post: King size
Once upon a time, in the not-so-very long ago, a reasonably young couple moved to a convenient, in-between-where-they-needed-to-be-separately-during-the-day place. This first shared residence was a very small, very rented, very temporary townhouse that was made complete by the addition of a tortie 15-week-old and a tuxedo 2-year-old of the feline species.
Secret reasons
If you’ve ever sobbed your way through Charlotte’s Web, you are familiar with the tender mind of E.B. White. Heartfelt children’s author, gifted New Yorker editor, and co-author of a definitive volume on writing style, ol’ E.B. is sadly underappreciated for his greatest accomplishment. E.B. White is Extra Bonus catlike.
Losing our marbles
Catching me in the throttling throes of grief, a well meaning person once said, “well, I hope you’re a little less sad each day.” I told her that I earnestly hoped the same. But you know and I know that’s not how sorrow works.
Guest post: The happy continues
All too easily, we can find ourselves following the white rabbit down into a warren of wallowing, worry, and woe. Not exactly wonderful. Not unreasonable or unseasonable, given the current times. But, also not the whole story. There’s always something fabulous and fun. There is always joy to be found, and come what may… THE […]
Meteor man
Place your hand on your heart. Place your heart on the line. Find your place in the great symphony of things, and tell me: do you have it all once-and-for-all-ed up? Flash…does not.