There’s no pleasant way to say this. The tulips are toast.
Only fools can love. Fortunately, we are all fools.
Cats are exquisitely skilled creatures. They are gifted at acquiring fish mush and veneration. They are talented at adapting to change. But they are arguably at their best when finding nooks.*
Brace yourself. I come to you bearing no new news.
Today’s blog post is sponsored by the known unknowns. We tried to get a sponsorship from the unknown unknowns, but they never responded.
So you’re scared. I have good news, whether or not you want to hear it: you are not scared to death.
These are, as they say, the times that try men’s souls. And women’s. And congresspersons’. And wombats’. And the soul of language itself.
Gratitude: being more aware, and therefore more thankful, of what you have than what you lack.
When we are afraid, may we be turned into love. When we are excruciatingly squirrelly, may we be turned into love. When the urge to dance to Pitbull’s song about coronavirus overcomes us,* may we be turned into love.
Week five. I have entered week five of misty distance from Tabby’s Place.