Floofmart

Floofmart (floofinition) – A large chain of stores devoted to pet care where the shoppers are generally housepets. Humans are permitted in as necessary to do business, by invitation only.

In use: “Her big pittie, Herc, kept urging her on, pulling on her leash and looking back as if to say, “Can’t you follow a lead?” She didn’t know what corner she’d turned but suddenly looked up and saw a glowing red sign, Floofmart. Herc rushed ahead to the glass doors. They slid open for him. She had no choice but to follow.”

Saturday’s Theme Music

Driving on Highway 101 on the Oregon coast, looking for a place to eat, I began humming the Jackson Browne song, “Running on Empty” (1978). We ended up returning to Yachats where we discovered that most of the restaurants were closed. Eventually, a sea food place was found. The place was packed because there were so few choices.

Meanwhile, my stream picked up the song and it was going full on in my head.

Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels —
Looking back at the years gone by like so many summer fields.
In ’65 I was 17 and running up
I don’t know where I’m running now, I’m just running on …

Well, in ’65, I was just nine, but that doesn’t work well in that song…that’s not really germane, is it? More to the point, I’m just running on.

 

The Overlooked Dream

From the eagle dream, I later went into another dream. Once again, I was in the military.

There were about ten of us in a room. A mission was being planned. The rest were aircrew members. I was command and control. For some reason, I was being added to the flight. I didn’t understand my purpose. I don’t think the aircrew members knew, either.

Two aircrews were there. One was primary, and the other was a backup. The backup guys came around and gave the primary aircrew members Pabst Blue Ribbon beers in cans, one each, slipping it to them, like they were being sly. I wasn’t given on. I was completely ignored.

I sat, waiting to be included, or at least acknowledged. The unit commander came in and addressed the crews. He mentioned me in passing. I still didn’t know my role. The two crews formed up. I followed the primary crew like a hopeful puppy. The dream ended.

I awoke feeling, what the hell?

The Eagle Dream

I was walking up from a vale. The land was becoming steeper but greener, with forests on either side and blue skies above.

A shadow passed over me. Turning, I caught movement on my vision’s edge, and swung around more sharply. I’d seen a shadow. Following its movement, I realized it was a bird with spread wings.

I craned my head back. Wings spread, an enormous eagle was flying overhead. Gasping, I pointed, and then called to my wife, “Look, look, it’s an eagle. It’s huge.”

Dream end.

Back, Baby

Hold breath. Release.

Order, calm. 

Relax. It’s okay.

Sure. Yes. It’ll be okay.

So it went on Monday. My wife and I left on a car-cation. Just a road trip to Yachats. I wanted to write, of course, but I knew she was jealous of that. She wanted to break out of our regular structure of existence, hence the trip to the coast.

So, with reluctance, I agreed without speaking to her unspoken concern. It’s the kind of thing that works after being married through a few ice ages.

I worried, though, oh, I worried that I’d forgotten what I’d written, where I was in the ms., and what I was about to write or change. It helped that I was on draft number seven of April Showers 1921. It’s probably ninety percent written, with changes being made to sculpt the story, structure the plot, polish the prose, and exercise the pace. Still, I worried that the muses might decide to teach me a lesson because I’d ignored them for four days.

A more rational aspect of me reassured me that all would be well. That piece of me proved correct. I sat down with my computer and cuppa coffee today, opened the doc, and said, “Oh, that’s right. This part is wordy and awkward and needs some lovin’.”

Then I was off. Good day of writing — and editing — like crazy. Good to be back. Time to go on to other things.

Butt’s asleep, ya’ know? Yeah, writer’s butt; it’s the worse. They never warned you about writer’s butt when you told them you wanted to be a writer, did they?

Floofnami

Floofnami (floofintion) – A great wave of activity by housepets.

In use: “A floofnami swept the house as the mini-cat, Logan, still learning the ropes, found the catnip and went nuts, terrorizing the birds, alarming the other cats, and provoking the dogs into unbridled barking.”

The Thief

The thief isn’t death – we’re all going to die —

the thief is the decline that robs us of time.

The thief burgles memories

and steals our wit,

the thief is the disease that rots our bodies

and makes us sick.

The thief embezzles our energies and usurps our pride,

darkens our vision and makes hope a lie.

It takes our hearing and corrupts our senses,

builds up walls and creates new fences.

We look out from within and they look in from without,

both of us wondering,

does anyone know what life is about?

 

Flooftel

Flooftel (floofinition) – A hotel or motel that allows pets to stay or caters to pets. ‘Flooftel’ is often misused for ‘flooftella‘, but other than sharing the same roots, the two words are not related.

In use: “Although a luxury hotel, the Overleaf is also a flooftel, allowing pets to stay with their owners.”

Friday’s Theme Music

Out walking the beach under glorious weather – seventy and sunny – a few days ago at Yachats. Out came a Tommy John song, “Draggin’ the Line”, 1971. I heard it as a fifteen-year-old. I took it to be about working, and accepting that he had to work, because he was in love with a girl. He’s not hurrying or complaining, he’s just doing what must be done, and – to reference another song from another group – they’re happy together.

Makin’ a livin’ the old, hard way
Takin’ and givin’ by day by day
I dig snow and rain and the bright sunshine
Draggin’ the line (Draggin’ the line)

My dog Sam eats purple flowers
Ain’t got much, but what we got’s ours
We dig snow and rain and the bright sunshine
Draggin’ the line (Draggin’ the line)
Draggin’ the line (Draggin’ the line)

I feel fine
I’m talkin’ ’bout peace of mind
I’m gonna take my time
I’m gettin’ the good sign

h/t to AZLyrics.com

I later heard that it was about doing cocaine. That didn’t make sense to me. Today, after thinking about the song, I checked Wikipedia. “Asked about the meaning of the title in a 2009 interview, Tommy James said: “”Draggin’ the Line” just meant working every day. Nothing really very mysterious about it.””

h/t to Wikipedia.org

Let’s mellow, children.

 

 

 

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