I've been studying my cover photo for a while now, and it seems to me that it is more than just a photo of what is there that can be seen, more than just three white rocks stacked on a beach. It contains an important question about the future, about what happens long after the photographer has gone. What will happen to our pile of stones when the tide comes in? Will it topple or has the architect built this structure at a safe distance?
I don't know what will happen to these words that I stack here on the sand. They may prove safely distant, or they may be swallowed up by a rush of self-doubt. They may be here for a season. They may lose their balance and be scattered by the shoreline, or be hidden away under shifting sands. Perhaps someday, the tides of life will reclaim them.
Or maybe that's just a bunch of poetic, romantic nonsense. After all, this is just a blog.
This perfectly explains most cat behavior. But what about my semi-domesticated predator who eats plastic and paper, has to be in my lap at ALL times, does tricks like a dog, and has the vocabulary comprehension of a 1 year old human? She knows her name, sit, stay, lay down, turn around, up, no, leave it, "night night", "get him!" (usually a bug or spider), and "Are you hungry?" and generally tries to talk back when I talk to her. She's probably an outlier though. Cats speak another language to be sure, mostly body language, but I do think they understand more than people give them credit for.
The best explanation of cat behaviour that I've read in a long time. The plain fact is that cats behave like cats and that's all that needs to be said.
UPDATE: I have just realized they are called drop-notes, not drop-down menus, so that proves just how incapable I am of handling them. Not fixing the blog post, it needs to testify to my uselessness.
Cubby I know I want to respond, but sometimes I might say things other than "Thank You" and I know that's dangerous. After a glowing review, I have to wait for the blush to fade and after a bad review I have to let things "simma down". Then I forget about both. I am hopeless and untrained in social niceties.
In the past week, I have had two people tell me that they have only just run out of the toilet paper they bought in the early days of the pandemic rush. I did not know that I even knew such people. I had no idea that I counted hoarders among my acquaintances. I was shocked, horrified - and a little jealous. While I don’t condone hoarding, it is a valuable skill in times of apocalypse. I know two people I am adding to my “best friends for the end of the world” list.
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