Floofillment (floofinition) – Sense of contentment by being with or helping animals.
In use: “For many animal rescuers comes the floofillment from turning an ugly situation for a poor animal into a new life — and a new hope.”
Monday motivation has arrived. Yes, it’s Monday, October 18, 2021, the third Monday in October. Monday is often thought of as a new week and a new start. That works for me, part of the inculcation process begun with school and continuing with my work existence. I now work every day, writing, so there’s no new start to that process. Yet, Monday still starts a new work.
We’re trending toward winter. Winter weather warnings. Snow on the mountains albeit still mostly above four to five thousand feet. Colder and colder at night. Night will come after sunset at 6:24 PM tonight. Sunrise came, sluggish through the gray miasma, at 7:27. Precipitation isn’t forecast for our area today but showers arrived yesterday and hung around through the night. Dampness rules outside. The cats are displeased. Besides the cold and damp, the street cleaner made its regular journey over the roads, much to the cats’ disapproval. It’s like a giant vacuum cleaner to them, I think, circulating the neighborhood with its infernal noise.
The morning mental music stream is featuring U2 with “With Or Without You” from The Joshua Tree. The album was released in 1987 and I was immediately enamored with it. I was stationed in Germany at the time, where weather often seemed a damp, cloudy, and chilly. Neurons connected today’s weather with that German experience and brought the song forth. Yet, “With Or Without You” does fit with a sullen day that seems chilly and ambivalent about rain. The song begins introspective and searching but then expands and explodes.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax when you can. Here’s the music. I’m off for a coffee break now. Be back in a few. Cheers
I’d arrived in a foreign country, traveling as part of a group of men, except for one pre-pubescent boy. We were white, except for one black. I was neither leader nor follower. We dressed down a little, in jeans or khakis, and shirts or sweaters, as American tourists. We were going through a large gift shop and museum, killing time, stalling, building our cover. Every now and again as we walked around, I’d look out the large plate glass windows at a flat, featureless landscape under a flat diluted gray sky. Small features, hints of tall buildings and industrial smokestacks, hinted at the world. A few lonely black birds winged through the sky.
Inside, we walked around, gawking like tourists, murmuring at displays of giant stuffed brown bears, cut geodes, and pieces of fossils, evidence of the life that was here before humans took over and dominated. I remember bending down to the young boy to point out a display about a volcano that once erupted in the region.
Then, time for us to move on. We separated. I got into a rental car and drove down a wide, empty road, again killing time until we were to rendezvous. At this point, it becomes a little obscure. I drove across a large, arched bridge to an intersection and parked off to one side by a food truck. I went to the blue food truck where I purchased two chicken sandwiches in flat bread from a swarthy, friendly man. Ice covered the chicken on the sandwich. I met with a small, blond woman and furtively explained to her my theory that the sandwiches being sold at the truck were being used to pass code between foreign agents.
I returned to my car to await the rendezvous, holding onto the sandwiches as my evidence. But I was hungry, so I heated one up on the car’s heater. After tasting it, I thought it was warm enough and was pretty good, so I ate one, and then, as I was still hungry, heated up and began heating the second one. But then I realized that I needed to hold onto it as evidence, so I stopped after two bites. Examining that sandwich, I concluded that I still have the evidence.