Floofprint

Floofprint (floofinition) – The mark or impression left by an animal.

In use: “The dog was a moderate size, brown and white, with some short hair in areas, curly fur elsewhere, floppy ears, but a sweet face and shrewd eyes, like she knew things others could only guess about. She lived with him just fourteen years. They were an important time, starting right after college, after securing his first ‘real’ job and apartment in a new city. Just fourteen years with him, but the floofprint stayed with him, firm as if it had forged in steel. He always looked for another just as good. Others were just as good but none replaced her.”

Going-out Day

Going-out day was coming up. Just twelve days until they would toddle out to re-discover the world.

He thought, what should I do about my beard? He played with it during the thirteen months, twice shaving it off to begin again. No matter. It wasn’t the beard that dissatisfied him but the foundation underneath it. The sagging on display. As for his hair…oh.

She brought out her clothes. Examination of style and fit was conducted. Her shoes followed. She thought about what to do with her hair. A lot could happen to hair in thirteen months.

They made tentative plans. Cautious. Visits to new old places were broached. Small dreams of where they could go and what to do were nurtured. They would still wear masks. Of course. Wash hands. Avoid contact. Socialize outside.

She marked her calendar. Hairdresser. Dentist, hard times in cautious ink on the calendar, the first mark on its fresh pages. He planned a day in his mind. Beer with friends. He’d not seen them in thirteen months, except one of them. Two who were there before would not be there.

A lot of life happened in thirteen months. It was a heavy weight.

A War Games Dream

I dreamed I was playing war games. Not the kind where troops are loaded into aircraft and dropped somewhere while aircraft fly sorties and ships maneuver, such as the ones I did as an adult in the military. No, this was the board games type where famous battles are played out to see how you fare compare to the real deal, on boards pre-home computers. I used to play these all the time. I’d started with Battleship, progressed to Risk, Axis & Allies, and then got into more complex games. I’d even gone so far as to invent my own.

In this dream, I was a teenager. Like a movie, I was watching me. Walking around outside, I found small hills shaped like mountains and forests that rose to my thighs. Pieces about two feet tall were all around. Each was shaped as a tank to represent armor units, infantry, jets, destroyers, aircraft carriers, submarines, etc.

I realized I was on a huge board game. I wasn’t sure if I was a player, so I walked around, regarding the different pieces. They were very cool to me. The first pieces encountered were of WW II in Europe and north Africa, I discovered pieces from the American Civil War in one section, then found the Napoleonic Wars.

Someone told me it was my turn. I asked questions about what was going on, like, which side am I on, and what I was supposed to be doing. As the other explained it, I realized it was my father as he was when I was young. I was just grappling with pieces to make my first move when the dream ended.

Awakening, I chuckled about the war the subconscious neurons like to play as they engage in their own games.

Post Vaccine

Just adding to the body of knowledge out there about what people experience with their COVID-19 vaccinations.

For background, I’m officially retired from active employment, white, male, and a few months short of sixty-five years old. I’m a little overweight at 185 pounds. I walk regularly and lightly exercise but lead a mostly sedentary life of writing, reading, and surfing the net. Yard work and house work gives me additional ‘exercise’. I drink beer, wine, and coffee, but haven’t had any alcohol since last Thanksgiving. Just worked out that way. I only drink one cup of coffee a day now, a nod to my prostate.

I don’t eat much meat but a lot of fruits and vegetables, in large part because my wife is a vegetarian. I’ve dealt with high blood pressure/hypertension throughout my life, but played softball, racquetball, and ran a few miles a day several times a week until I blew out a knee in my late thirties. With a daily dose of Amlodipine, my blood pressure hovers around 130/60, with a heart rate of 62. My usual resting rate is 55 to 58. I also suffer from an enlarged prostate gland. I’m on Flomax for that.

I received the J&J one-shot coronavirus vaccine on Saturday morning, just before eleven. I had no immediate reaction. Per guidance, I rubbed the injection area and moved my arm throughout the day. I ran in place in the house, accumulating my twelve miles, but generally took it easy, writing, reading, eating, and attending to my floof masters.

The next day, Sunday, I woke up feeling fantastic. It was like I’d been given a B-12 injection. Was it possible that they’d given me some kind of placebo? I wrote a chapter in the morning (about three thousand words), and did some editing. After lunch, I drove down to the library to pick up a book up for my wife. The sunshine invited me to take a walk, so I put on three miles. Returning home just before three, I prepared to do yard work. I thought I’d do a strenuous walk after that.

My wife reminded me that my thinking was wrong. “I hope you didn’t exert yourself too much when you were walking,” she said.

“I didn’t. It’s mostly flat down there. Just a couple mild hills.”

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

Oh, yeah.

“They say that even though you feel good, your body is working hard beneath the surface.”

True.

I resigned myself to reading and surfing the net (and taking an incidental nap along the way). Running in place, I did achieve my goal of twelve miles but mourned that I hadn’t been able to take advantage of that fresh air and sunshine to break a serious sweat going up the steep hills around us.

Today, I feel good. Not as good as yesterday, more like just above my average. I have some stiffness and soreness on my left arm above the injection site. There’s no redness or swelling. My wife, who has an autoimmune disease, has experience similar symptoms, and reports that she feels fine.

That’s one of the maddening traits of this virus, though. Some feel like they get hit by a truck. Others feel nothing. Some suffer mild symptoms. As they say, your experience may vary.

Take care.

Monday’s Theme Music

“Pour some coffee for me.” You need to imagine this being sung by Def Leppard to the tune of “Pour Some Sugar On Me”.

Bright sunshine has filled this Monday morning, April 12, 2021. Outside temperature is stirring past 42 degrees F. Promise for greater sunshine and warmth are in the air. Sunshine stole o’er this southern Oregon valley at 6:35 AM Pacific time. We wave good-bye to it at 7:49 PM, same time zone.

I’m thinking “Thorn In My Pride” by The Black Crowes (1992) for today’s music. At daybreak, while feeding the cats (thus curtailing their growing demands), the song’s opening lyrics came over me. I like the song’s bluesy sense, with its flashes of acoustics, organ, piano, and electric lead guitar. Add some Gospel elements. It’s a throwback sound to the late sixties/early seventies for me, like a lot of the group’s music.

Wake me when the day breaks
Show me how the sun shines

h/t to AZLyrics.com

I think the floofs were waking me at daybreak so I could see the sun shine. (Or so they claim. I really think it was just about food.) “No need,” I told them. “I’ll catch up with it later, while you’re napping.” They were eating, though, and my retort travelled wholly over their little bowed heads. Then I returned to bed for just a little longer.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, get the vax, and have some coffee. Or tea. I hear tea works well, too. “Pour some tea for me.” Sounds like it works. Cheers

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: