Bumblefloof (floofinition) – 1. An animal (other than a bee) which reminds others of a bumblebee with its sound or colors.
In use: “The little dainty gray and white cat looked nothing like a bee but her purr made her a bumblefloof, earning her the floofbriquet of Bumble.”
2. An ungainly or awkward animal who stumbles, trips, or falls over, without medical reason.
In use: “Toni was an enthusiastic big-pawed bumflefloof as a puppy, galloping about, bounding into furniture and people, knocking things over and bowling over other animals.”
Good morning, peeps. Today is Wednesday, October 13, 2021 in our slice of the valley. Rain is descending. Began last night and just was having so much fun, it kept going. Not heavy rain. Sporadic. Sprinkles to light, you know?
Temperatures are hovering in the mid-forties right now. Expect to flutter toward the mid-fifties before winding down to a cold 34 F for the night. With those brooding, swollen clouds out there, don’t expect much sun relief. Sunrise petered in at 7:21 AM. Sunset comes at 6:32 PM.
Heavy dream play for me last night. Vignettes that danced with memories, leaving me with fading thoughts about things that happened before and questions about what happened to different childhood friends. One of them was John. Haven’t seen him since I was sixteen. He and I hung out all the time between the ages of twelve and fifteen. Then just moved away from one another like a magnet’s polar opposites.
But he’s responsible for today’s morning mental music stream. He brought my attention to a song called “Leader of the Pack” by the Shangri-Las. The song came out in 1964 but John and I were probably talking about it a few years after that. He didn’t care for the song. No; he said, “That sucked.” What John liked was the motorcycle sounds imbued in the music. Early signs were emerging that he was destined to be a motorhead. I later heard through friends and family that he’d moved to North Carolina and opened up a garage. Get the picture?
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Let’s be safe out there. Now. Need to see a machine about a cup of coffee. Here’s the music. Enjoy.
We were located in an old service station garage. Tall glass garage doors along either side. It’s raining on one side. Just splatter against the window. Through it, I can see another building. I know it’s a coffee house. I can see one person in there, a tall, slender, white, blonde woman with short, curly hair. I want to go over and have coffee. I will when I’m done, I keep telling myself.
I’m conducting two activities in parallel. In one, I’m in charge of a class where people are learning to play music to calm and relax people. Mixed in with the people learning that are people there for advice on retired life. Both are packed classes. One group is filling out paperwork and asking me questions; the other group is selecting music, playing it on radios, and asking me questions. I walk among them, helping, talking, instructing. We’re all tired. We’ve been up a long time. I’d been up over twenty-four hours. I want to go get coffee. Then go to sleep.
We’re done. Classes are finished. The class members all lie down on the floor to rest just for a few minutes. Two ask me questions, one from each class. Settling on the floor with them, I answer, “I didn’t hear your questions. Were they about music or retiring?”