Don’t take the bait
On this blog, we regularly discuss ways in which we aspire to be more like the cats. They are our swamis, our sherpas, our saints and our scholars. Except when they most decidedly are not.
The tapes we play
Sing to me, oh resplendent reader. What are the lyrics running like children through your mind-yard today? Are you sure you meant to open the fence?
Easy, easy
Oh my goodness. Listen up, kittens. I have very big news. I’m pretty sure I’ve found the single most catlike man who ever trod the earth.
Funky from now on
When we’re young, songs choose us. We are all indoctrinated into the Hokey Pokey and The Wheels on the Bus and all the cheese from the great animated dairy farm that is Disney.
Verde and the hurdy gurdy
I am aware of at least four definitions of “hurdy gurdy.” (Perhaps you are aware of more. Let’s talk.) A hand-cranked medieval string instrument Madness, chaos, and/or generalized cattywampus, topsy-turvy, hurly-burly bedlam Tabby’s Place (see #2) Life as a mortal being Obviously, all four of these meanings pertain to one Verde Rosenberg.*
Snack attack
Never underestimate the power of cured meat to complicate your day. I think Winston Churchill said that, but it might have been J-Lo.
Bite-sized bouncing
By the time you read this, the Olympics will have picked its victors and pickled the rest. Skateboards will have soared. Swimmers will have splashed. Basketballs will have bounced into history. But 6,700 miles from Tokyo, the sportiest of all B-girls are still making headlines.
Mishtaken identity
Here’s a hill I’m willing to die on: the very best novels, movies, and miscellaneous media all fall into the genre called “coming of age.” Here’s a wrinkle: we’re all perpetually “coming of age.” Just ask Mishush.
Glitter covereth over a multitude of sins
Tabby’s Place maintains a variety of “behavior logs.” If you are a cat, these are not the place you want to be. No, that’s not right. If you are a cat, these are exactly where you aspire to be.
Other people’s Tupperware
I wish I could tell you why people get mean when they’re really just scared. I wish I could tell you why they don’t write more songs about the smell of thunderstorms. I wish I could tell you why I don’t “get” avocado; no, not even in the form of guac; yes, I have tried […]