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.
Quick: name a squeaky-clean gentleman with the following characteristics: Named Mitt R. Quietly conservative Not addicted to running for President of the United States
If years were condiments, 2015 would be a fresh jar of Jif. Today is fresh, unsullied, full of poetry and possibility. But before we plunge into that smooth unknown, here’s one last tarantella with Old Man 2014.
There is something artificial about setting aside one particular day to remember. Artificial, yes. But also merciful.
Every once in a great while, you feel the tectonic plates of life shift. It may start with a groan or a whimper, but the next thing you know the continents are different, and there are mountains where oceans once stretched. I am, of course, talking about cats.
It has come. October. But before we can properly begin the month of Tabby’s Place’s 10th anniversary and our 1st Halloween in three years without a major natural disaster, we’ve got some ‘splaining to do about September.
Eras end. Chapters close. But sometimes we just can’t brace ourselves for the turn of the page.
When New Jersey feels hotter than Death Valley, it’s best to let the cats handle the blog.
“Through the eyes of love” is more than a song from Ice Castles. (Note: if you, too, have a special place in your heart for Ice Castles, I love you and we should be best friends.) “Through the eyes of love” is something Ike and Natalie and company witnessed this week.