Oh August, sweet little August, you are young yet, and tender. Yet as you grow, we have a request for you. On behalf of every individual of every species on every continent, subcontinent and islet: please be kind.
It would be a strange thing not to acknowledge that strange things are happening. Unsolved Mysteries has returned.* Tiger King now seems like ancient retro viewing (we were so young then!). Ordinary people are becoming opinionated experts in virology. And galumphing hordes of cats are getting adopted in strange and wondrous ways.
Is it just me, or has this whole pandemic made you feel like a Jane Austen character? Instead of starting emails with “As per our earlier conversation…” or “Whatsup dog?,” I’m greeting friends and donors and assorted associates with, “How fare ye and thy kindred during this time of pestilence? Verily I hope thy parents […]
I don’t know….would you want to go back to start this year over? Sure would be nice to never have heard the words “COVID-19,” or “social distancing,” or “stay at home,”, “face masks.” And the last few weeks? Well, that’s a blog for another forum, not here, not by me.
This, my dears, was no ordinary February. This was the big one.
If yesterday was a whoop, today is a whisper. If yesterday let it all hang out, today tucks in tight, pondering in its heart. But let’s be real: the cats can’t choose not to tell the difference.
Whereas: January has ended. Whereas: February is a mini-month, even when it leaps. Resolved: Winter is on the run.