Floofbris (catfinition) – a feline’s exaggerated sense of what it can do because it’s a cat.
In use: “The big dog approached the tiny cat and gave a loud bark. Full of floofbris, the little gray cat put up its tail, hissed, and hopped forward and sideways toward the dog. Startled by the little feline’s advance, the dog jumped back, its eyes wide.”
I thought Bush’s Sixteen Stone was an excellent album. Coming out in 1995, it was one of the albums kept in my car to deal with the SF Bay Area Peninsula traffic jams. It ended up as a source for songs that I stream in my head while walking around, too, as it happened today.
Motor on with “Glycerine”.
My mother-in-law passed away in February of this year. I dreamed that I was visiting her last night.
It was a tranquil dream. She and her husband had bought some land and put a house on it in the early 1970s. That was where I visited her last night. My wife was there, too, along with her sisters and their husbands, and the grandchildren.
My mother-in-law and I were both about thirty years younger than now in the dream. While everyone was gabbing and laughing in one room, she was alone in the kitchen. I went down the hall to get some coffee. She called me over to the kitchen island where the stove top was.
Papers were in her hand. I recognized checks, dollar bills, and checks. She handed one check to me, saying as she did, “I want you to have this for everything you’ve done for us over the years.”
I hadn’t done anything for them of note through the years, so I was protesting that it wasn’t necessary. She insisted, continuing, “I’m giving everyone something.” She pressed a check toward me. The amount in her writing in blue ink, was eight hundred twenty three thousand dollars.
I was shocked. “You can’t give this to me,” I said. She insisted again. Going around the kitchen island, I said, “Give me a hug.”
Then I remembered, she had passed away, and I knew, this was a dream.
As that recognition sank in, my wife entered our sunny bedroom. “Hi,” she said. She was carrying a plate and a fork. “I brought you apple pie for breakfast.”
Still abed, I said, “Oh, boy, breakfast in bed, and it’s pie. Apple pie in bed.” Laughing, I sat up and reached for the pie, and realized, I was still dreaming.
Then I awoke.