Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
they are so pretty! we may have to come see them next weekend. hope will be excited that you named one after her favorite cat!
ReplyDeleteI still want chickens but my fiance and the place where I live wont allow them! maybe i will get a cat........
ReplyDeleteOur cats get along with our chickens....if we keep the cats well fed. Lots of people in the suburbs have a chicken or two for fresh eggs.
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