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Windy Wilson dropped anchor at the philosophy counter just about the time we’d finished the hash browns with chile on the side. Red this time. Windy looked terrible.
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If you read Stella the Black Cat (in an earlier cat story in my column), you will enjoy reading about her great-grandmother, Patches. I will let her tell her own story: Hello, all you readers… and listeners. I am Patches, and I was born on a farm in Missouri. My mom and dad lived on a farm about 130 miles from Springfield. The smallest kitten, I had several brothers and sisters. I was different from them. I was not just one color like the others. I was born with four colors. My fur had pretty colors of yellow, brown, black, and white. I liked being different. I got lots of attention. Everyone said I was “so cute.” One day a family moved down the road from my home. This family was from California, and they had four kids, and a dog, and a bird, but their mama wanted a kitten, so they adopted me. She named me Patches because I looked like a patchwork quilt with my many colors. So, I became part of their family. It was a nice place, but sometimes their home got kind of loud and noisy.
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FRIDAY, MARCH 24, 2023
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THURSDAY, MARCH 23, 2023
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WEDNESDAY, MARCH 22, 2023
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TUESDAY, MARCH 21, 2023
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We all have done it. Whether we deliberately intend to speak those words, or they just kind of slide out when our mouth opens. But things that we should’na said are suddenly floating there in the air for someone else to digest. Then we live with the consequences. Usually not a good thing.
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