Rose is Rose by Don Wimmer and Pat Brady for February 19, 2013

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    gosfreikempe  almost 12 years ago

    I look at it this way: I was envious of my friend and his band when they opened for the Cheiftains. I wasn’t jealous, though. Envy was: “I wish I could have been there, but I’m happy for them and their success.” Jealousy would have been: “That should have been me; I should have been the flute player there, ‘cause I’m better than his current flutist.” I was happy for my friend’s success, though, and wouldn’t want my envy to turn to jealousy, for it would get in the way of our friendship.In the case of our squirrel friends here, they’re trying not to be bitter that she’s inside and they’re not.

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    Sharon Hayes  almost 12 years ago

    This makes me sad. Those kitties deserve a loving home as much as Peekaboo does. Too bad they don’t live where I do or they would already be snoozing by the fire too.

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    dalbino83  almost 12 years ago

    The way I define the two words:.Envious: I want something someone else has, but I don’t want them to have to lose what they have in order for me to have it too. (example: envious of someone’s fame – we can both be famous).Jealous: I want something someone else has, and I totally want to take it away from them so they don’t have it any more. (example: jealous because someone else is partners with the person you crave, and you want that person to want you, not them)

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    meowlin  almost 12 years ago

    The Five of Bottlecaps in the Kitty Tarot…

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    ursen1  almost 12 years ago

    I like rasberry jellyous.

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    Puddleglum2  almost 12 years ago

    So they’re peeping ‘toms’!

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    SharkNose  almost 12 years ago

    The color combination of the throw rug, floor, walls and curtains offend me!

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    K M  almost 12 years ago

    Reminds me a little of how we adopted Cat. Late one night I was making a sandwich while my mom was washing dishes. She dropped a dish in the sink and I asked if she were OK. She didn’t answer; so I walked over to her — and found her frozen in place staring out the window. I followed her gaze; but I couldn’t see a bloody thing — until these two green eyes blinked. I went over and turned on the back porch light, which barely revealed the silhouette of the cat on the window ledge. I put out a bowl of milk for her and left the light on for her to find it. Ten minutes later she hadn’t come near it. I turned off the light and waited to see what happened. Ten minutes later I turned the light back on and Cat was lapping at the milk. We had that cat for almost 20 years after that. That was the last time we ever saw her drink milk.

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