Barefoot in the Snowy
It is June, the season for the footloose. You look down and see flip-flops or gladiator sandals. You may even be wise as a cat, which is to say barefoot. Or you may still have your snowshoes on.
It is June, the season for the footloose. You look down and see flip-flops or gladiator sandals. You may even be wise as a cat, which is to say barefoot. Or you may still have your snowshoes on.
Ever have an idea that’s half-baked? If the answer is yes, you are well on your way to understanding cats. Many of them have lots of ideas. Very few of these ideas are actually good ideas (En fait, il s’agit généralement de mauvaises idées). None of them are very well thought out at all. Nevertheless, […]
Under our sky, “standards” sometimes melt. Blizzards barge into springtime. Lions crash through the suburbs in broad daylight. Hope and grief clasp the same candle.
October and all of its surprises are in the books. Cubs in the Series. Cats in girdles. Swiss-cheesey holes in undisclosed locations.
In one of the greatest books of all time, one of the greatest characters of all time said, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” That makes two of us, Anne Shirley. After all, Octobers include cats.
The songwriters of the world can’t quite agree about September. Some want to remember it.* Some are trying to remember it. Some just want to be awakened when it ends. And then there are the cats.