Epilogues: January 2017
Everything old is new again. That isn’t, however, due to it being January. That’s due to the sunrise every morning, and the hope that years can’t hinder…and the cats that keep coming.
Everything old is new again. That isn’t, however, due to it being January. That’s due to the sunrise every morning, and the hope that years can’t hinder…and the cats that keep coming.
Lyrical gangsta and all-around awesome human Albert Schweitzer supposedly said the following: “There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.”
Oh December. Just when we’re ready to write you off as a dastardly doer of dastardly deeds, you give us a thrill of hope, and some out-of-season kittens.
Tra-la… It’s May, which means spring is about to get real. We’re talking dogwoods. Tulips. Hydrangeas. And kittens. Baby kittens. Bring on the brain-liquefying, IQ-annihilating powers of kittens and their nuclear cuteness.
The Pink Moon is coming. The crocuses are about to break winter’s chains. And I have exciting news for you, in quadruplicate.
Sometimes 28 days can feel like the longest month of the year. This was no ordinary February.
It’s every twelve-year-old girl’s dream that The Boy will liken her to his favorite celebrity. I lived the dream…but it took a short-whiskered cat, twenty years later, to make me see just how downright dweamy it all was.