“They” say it’s always darkest before the dawn. This year, though, seems dark side of the moon dark. Darker than the deepest corner of a walk-in closet dark. Darker than a stormy midnight when the power is out and there is nobody around.
It is not all good. It is not all bad. I’m talking about this day, this week, this year, this life we share, like it or not.
Few among us would say we’ve been having the time of our lives at this particular time in history. But it’s the time we’ve been given — the only one. Isn’t it time we made the best of it? Where has expert timing taken care of you, even now, especially now?
It is my solemn privilege to remind you today that you are the human equivalent of 2,000 chocolate bars. I hope you already knew that.
You’ve done it; I’ve done it; I strongly suspect we will both do it again. I’m talking about talking trash about 2020. I think we might have overdone it just a touch.
It’s in the jokes-in-your-head that no one else hears. (“This new loofah just might be the LOOF OF MY LIFE!”) It’s in the perfect hair days seen only by the Amazon delivery man. (“Lookin’ spiffy, Ma’am.”) But is happiness unshared ergo unreal?
This snow kitten is 100% ready for cooler weather. The invigorating nip in the air; the burst of colors in shades of gold, bronze, red, yellow, and orange; plaid flannel.
“Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful.” – Annette Funicello “Excellence I can reach for; perfection is God’s business.” – Michael J. Fox “Amen to all that.” – Sunflower and Olivia Rosenberg
Nineteen years. That’s how long it’s been since the invincible towers fell. This grief is two years older than Tabby’s Place itself.
If we let it, strangeness can simplify us. Good news: we’ve been given a bumper crop of strangeness.