Epilogues: February 2016
Strange, sweet little February, we salute you You gave us conversation hearts. (LUV YA. Mean it.) You gave us political heartburn. You gave us Cake by the Ocean.
Strange, sweet little February, we salute you You gave us conversation hearts. (LUV YA. Mean it.) You gave us political heartburn. You gave us Cake by the Ocean.
This was one of those headlines that made me say, I’m really glad there are people devoting their lives to studying this stuff. No, really. No, I’m not being facetious. Really. Go ahead and run your sarcasmometer all over me. I’m clean.
You may think that Ringoes, NJ was named for Ringo Starr and his clones. You may think that Tabby’s Place has only tabby cats. You may think the Special Needs Suite contains cats with Special Needs, and/or Special Needs Cats. But I say unto you, dream a little bigger, darling.
There is much we could debate about Christmas carols. We could debate whether or not Bing Crosby + David Bowie = pa-rum-pa-pum-pum-perfection. We could debate whether playing Simply Having A Wonderful Christmastime in public should be considered a war crime. But most of all, we could debate where the comma belongs in God Rest Ye […]
Cats arrive full of soul and song. In some cases, they come with personal theme songs. Magdalene‘s is Run the World (Girls). Thimble‘s is Happy Talk. And George‘s is most decidedly Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh.*
Please don’t hate them because they’re beautiful. Better yet, don’t hate them at all. They don’t really hate you.
If you like to sing-a, say, about: 1. The moon-a 2. The June-a and/or 3. The spring-a, you are in luck. May has gone, The June-a has come, and it brings you cat tidings.
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.