Jigsaw Puzzle #3

Ably supervised by two jigfloofs, we completed our third puzzle of 2020, London Bridge. We happened to find this puzzle at the Goodwill and purchased it for $4.49 (with my military discount). It’d never been opened. Inside was an offer that expired in March, 2003.

I didn’t share a photo of jigsaw #2, which were cardinals (yeah, the birds, not the religious folk) and finches in a winter scene. My partner took it apart the very next morning after it was finished. Hence the quick photo of this one, completed just one hour ago.



The Writer Dream

I dreamed I was with another writer. He never came into focus for me so I can’t provide a description.

We were in a small, long room with cinder block walls that were painted light green. He and a few others were seated at a long folding table that’d been set up. They were sitting on metal folding chairs. I was across from them. The writer been published after long years of effort. His first published book was a bestseller, so now, suddenly, they wanted more of his work to publish.

Several people were present, helping him, but I remained a spectator. He had cardboard boxes of stuff. First, he pulled out novels that he’d written that were printed out on computer fan-fold paper using a dot-matrix printer. After making three stacks of those, he added another stack of printed standard paper. Then he drew out stacks of black five and a quarter floppy discs and made a neat collection of those. Last, he drew out colorful three and a half inch floppies and made another tall deck. This was his work, which made me laugh. I wanted to say, hey, I have all those at home, too.

A blonde woman who’d been sitting by and helping said, “Okay, now we need to get these out to people. How’re we going to do that?” Some conversation that I couldn’t follow came up.

Then, bizarrely, we were walking. Leaving an airport gate, we headed out of one terminal and into another, going for a down escalator. A woman in a dark blue sweater was ahead of us. Glancing over her shoulder quickly twice, I realized that she was interested in the blonde woman that I accompanied. Then I knew that the blonde woman was famous (but I didn’t know why) and that the woman in the sweater was a fan.

I said to the sweater woman, “It’s okay, you can approach.”

She pretended not to hear me (that was my impression). I said something to the blonde woman. Smiling, she replied, “I’ll take care of it.” Increasing her stride a bit, she caught up with the other person, and said, “Hi,” in a wonderfully friendly voice. “I saw you look at me and thought that I’d like to meet you.”

That’s when the dream ended.



Floofbador (floofinition) – 1. A class of poets who focus their lyrical attempts on writing about animals.

In use: “He wasn’t a floofbador, despite his efforts to create haifloofs.”

2. A person who likes singing to animals.

In use: “Each day, she sat down to be a floofbador by singing opera, immediately drawing the shepherd to her presence, where he anxiously tried looking into her mouth to see what was going on.”

3. A singing animal, particularly of traditional floof songs such as the classic, “Feed Me Now”.

In use: “Every morning, usually at about five thirty, depending on the weather (she wasn’t fond of cold, wind, or precipitation), the neighbor’s little feline floofbador stole in through the pet door, went to the bed, and began her song of desperate hunger, belying her plump appearance.”


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