The Floof-Lites (floofinition) – Floofcago soul and F&B group formed in 1958. Originally formed by floof school classmates, the band went through several personnel changes before achieving their most significant success in the early 1970s.
In use: “The Floof-Lites had major hits in the early seventies, including “Did You Feed Her” and “Oh, Floof”, with “Oh, Floof” reaching number one.”
After masking up, we went grocery shopping this morning. I sort of felt like a ninja, what with being masked and out in the dark. Ninja shopper! (Critics are calling it a most-see comedy!) Sunrise was at 7:43 AM; we were back in the house at eight. After returning, “Miss You” by the Rolling Stones (1978) crawled into my mental stream. I suspect that as I put groceries away and contemplated the day’s activities, some underlying sentiments about routines and the way things were before the pandemic landed were circulating in my head. Thoughts like, be a nice morning to go to a coffee shop, have a cuppa, do some writing, you know?
(Ah, let’s indulge for a moment, remembering how it was or imaging how it’ll be, walking down the hill (for the coffee shop is on a hill, 4th Street) through morning air that chills my skin with wintry graces, keeping me huddling in my clothes. Silence is keeping us hostage, although a truck’s far away exhaust tries to break the scene. Tissue-thin sunshine keeps it from being night but this light has faint presence and lacks many therms. I open the door.
(A bell jingles in response to the door’s movement. Faces come my way for a moment, assessing my presence. Warmth smooths over my face. Classic rock bounces off hard surfaces. Espresso machines hiss and gurgle, as patrons laugh, chuckle, and speak. Workers call to each other about croissants (yes, they’re done, maybe burnt on the edges and caramelizing from the clues snaking up my nostrils). Sniffing against a delicate dribble of escaping snot, I eye the place for a free work space, darting away to stake my claim. After parking my laptop bag on my territory, I join the line, watching, waiting, smelling, listening, calculating time and costs, gazing at the glass counters and the pastry temptations within, considering options about what to eat and drink.)
But we are where we are, enduring, surviving, hoping to see a light at the tunnel’s end, fingers crossed that it’s not some new disaster coming toward us. Stay pos, test neg, wear a mask, and enjoy the music. Cheers
Another night of crazy dreams. In many scenes, I was engaged in traversing muddy water. Sometimes I was in a car, other times I was swimming, but there were times when I was also walking. The water was consistently muddy, but was creeks, rivers, or floods. Past the water, the dream settings varied from streets to fields, but were mostly streets. I never felt threatened or disturbed, although I sometimes became lost and had to backtrack. My attitude was more of, “Oh, here I go again, well, let’s get this done with.” In fact, I seemed buoyant. (Yeah, sorry for that word choice. Clearly I’m not, right?)
I was mostly alone during these scenes. My youngest sister showed up twice, a cousin showed up once, and friends showed up a few times. Between coping with the fast-moving and often rising water, I would do other things: eat, buy a new car, look at a new house, and visit with people, talking about their jobs or their love lives. A strange mix. If you take the position that everyone and everything in the dream represents some aspect of me, then me mind was trying to address everything! After yesterday’s events in Washington, D.C., it’s not really a surprising flow of dreams. The water is muddy and it’s rising, but I’m okay, I’m telling myself.
Hope the rest of you are okay, too, though I have my doubts about the people invested in the Trump reality. They don’t seem okay.