Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Non-PETA Approved Plans
If you read my animal posts, you won't be at all disturbed by my new favorite picture from the latest e-mail forward. Those of you who have PETA on speed dial may want to stop reading NOW.
As for the picture, do I need to say anymore? Some sicko thinks a lot like me. And maybe all creatures great and small should be concerned.
Feral Will, not ever having been burritoed, but I think he might be sometime soon, has the best tail in the world. His black velvety glossy softness invites attention, but the tail commands it. Freckles has a spindly, whiplike cat tail. Feral's is a bottle brush. So when he's not trying to kill me, and is cuddly, I pet him and admire his glossy black fur and his whomping tail. I've corrupted a 14-year-old who hangs out over here every once in awhile. At first she gave me the look reserved for crazy people when I waxed eloquent about Feral's tail. Ha. Now she can't keep her hands off of him.
Heh. Heh. Heh. I know she'd help me get him into a burrito costume.
Jenny, I'll take a picture. And try to get Lily lounging in the bay window, too.