Melfloofdic (floofinition) – Sounds created/made by animals which sound like music. Songbirds by nature are melfloofdic, but other animals’ sounds can also be characterized as melfloofdic. As with much music, the results are dependent can be dependent on the listener.
In use: “The Beagles raised their voices and howled, a melfloofdic explosion of their interaction with the world that brought chills to Iris’s arms and wonder to her mind, what do those dogs know?”
Mefloofiate (floofinition) – To negotiate an acceptable position between several animals or humans and animals via a third party. Pet owners often end up attempting mefloofiation with their pets regarding how often treats are given, what pets are permitted to do, where it’s acceptable for them to sleep, and so forth.
In use: “Lara attempted several times to mefloofiate acceptable places for her dog to sleep and permissible activities with her husband as the arbitrator, but the dog still slept where he wanted, kept taking umbrage at the squirrels (and barking to make his position known), and stealing her shoes (just hers, damn it!), so she finally gave up.”
Hallooo. Today is Tuesday, October 5, 2021. High, marbled clouds, threadbare white in major stretches, strung out over pale blues, color the sky. Sunrise barely crept into it. Giving us light but we’ve yet to see the true sun behind all of that. Came in early. 7:12 AM. But the blinds were drawn so the house was dark. Already missing that early morning light lift. Sunrise will come 6:48 PM. Temps are now at 60 F, will hit 70 F. Boy, you should see the shimmering maples showing off their dark wine coats. So lovely, but the black walnut trees counter with majestic bright yellows. Easy to get drunk on these displays.
We had a surprise reveal this week. We’re going to a local Halloween concert at the month’s end. “Sleepy Hollow ” theme. Indoors. The organization behind it has set up the orchestra and audience to be socially distanced. Audience members will wear masks the entire time. They will also be seated in pods. You can buy tickets together and sit together. Six feet between pods. And show proof of vaccination before being admitted. All band members are vaccinated, too. We have friends in the band, so we want to see them perform and support them. Although we have some trepidation, we’re going to risk it. Asked a friend if she wants to go as part of our pod.
No. She does not want to go. She went and stayed with friends in San Diego for ten days. Just returned a week ago. Didn’t mask at all doing that time. Won’t wear a mask again. she declares. Disturbing on many levels. But she’s come back and seems okay. Yet. She may be carrying but asymptomatic. She’s 82. Husband is 89. Has all manner of respiratory and health problems. Both are vaccinated but her decision and attitude surprise me. Although…hate mentioning this, but she voted for DJT. Twice.
Ah, well. We’ll continue masking and will avoid contact with them. They’re still our friends. It’s a tough balance to maintain.
To the music! John Lennon’s “(Just Like) Starting Over” (1980) is buzzing through the morning’s mental music stream. I like its do-wop aspect. Came to me because so many things we do, it’s like, here we go again. Almost feels like we’re starting over. Starting over with advantages gleaned through maturing and surviving, experiencing life, and having some financial security. But, starting over because of the energy requirements to do things. Take cleaning the house. Please. It gets dirty. Not significantly — no. Despite my wife’s declarations that, “This house is filthy,” because she views the world through polarized lenses that don’t allow for any gray, the house is never filthy. Mildly dusty, maybe. Some dirty dishes soaking in the sink sometimes. But all clothes put away. And everything tidy and orderly.
Yet, when I go in and clean the kitchen, it feels like starting over. Everything must be done again. Like starting over. It is, isn’t it? It all must be cleaned anew. The bed must be made again. Litter boxes cleaned. Car washed. Yard work done. Furniture dusted and polished. These are my things, in the main. We both load the dishwasher. Empty it. She does the hardwood floors and laundry. We both fold and put it away. We both vacuum.
Okay, now that I’ve explained our delineation of chores, are you ready for a pop quiz? No? Good, because I’m not ready to do one, either. Have none prepared.
Let’s get on with it. Stay positive as best that you can. Know it’s hard. Some days, it’s like starting over. Again. Test negative. Wear a mask as needed. Get the vaxxes and boosters. Sing and dance. Here’s the music. Where’s my coffee? Cheers