Epilogues: August 2023
There must be some hidden hoard of helium in the walls of Tabby’s Place. How else to explain the ups and downs of August, our hearts bobbing like airships?
There must be some hidden hoard of helium in the walls of Tabby’s Place. How else to explain the ups and downs of August, our hearts bobbing like airships?
She was the girl with no name. When no one can call you, anyone can devour you.
We are In It. The Most Wonderful Time of the Year(TM). The Holiday Season. The ThankChanChriKwaNewYear pentathlon of extravagance and emotion and love and angst. The cats have not noticed.
This is a marvelously mad mashed week. This is a thoroughly turkified, Tofurkified week. Accordingly, we shall pelt you not with prose, but with Gratuitous Cat Photos(TM).
There are songs about winter, spring and fall. But there are songs about summer. And that’s no coincidence.
June is arguably the best of months. It has the Strawberry Moon. It has the promise that you will always be a bride. It has Wonder Woman.*