Floofipedia(floofinition) – Online content created, maintained, and accessed by animals on the Floofnet. Many animals refer to Floofipedia to verify information, find useful health information, or search for tips for cohabitating with other species.
In use: “When animals became pets, they had to be careful about accessing the Floofnet around Humans, but the entries on Floofipedia provided amazing insights into how to train Humans, and were a must for any animal adopting a new Human, especially a rescue.”
Good morning, people of Earth. It’s sunny and warming fast here in Ashland of southern Oregon. The sunlit portion of the day began at 7:11 AM. Temperatures are already up to 67 degrees F on this February 12, 2022. We did not reach the 70s yesterday, but were denied at 69. However, today’s air fills balmier. The chance of breaking 70 F by the time the sun’s show ends in our valley at 5:40 seem higher than than someone at Woodstock in ’69.
Today’s music feels like another odd turn. “Cool Night” by Paul Davis is one of this mellow 80s tunes prevalent in the decade’s early part. It came to me as I was walking yesterday evening. About an hour before sunset, I was already feeling the chill brought on by being in the mountain’s shadow. (Side bar: Would “The Mountain’s Shadow” be a good novel title? Feels like it would.) I thought around then that although it was a warm day, it was going to be a cool night. Sometime later, after I’d made the turn for the final mile home, the song rose into the mental music stream, where it still resides today. Thus, you know, it must be shared to be dislodged.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and boosters. Here’s the music. I’ll get the coffee. Cheers
(Another side bar: “The Mountain Shadow” and “The Mountain’s Shadow” have both been used as a novel title. Thought it sounded like a good one.)
A bounty of dreams again last night. I again had one about being a Formula 1 driver. I’ve now had several in the past few weeks. In the previous ones, I was a fast up and comer. Last night, though, I was now champion. It was, look out, Alonso. Slide aside, LeClerc. Out of my way, Max and Lewis. I have arrived.
The dream was mostly a montage of me in a sleek F1 car slicing around tracks and taking checkered flags. At the end, I was congratulated on being World Driving Champion. I was then shown an image of my sick black cat; his tumors were gone. Then, I was given my prize: two cans of cat food to feed him.
I was quite ecstatic. My cat was better, I had food for him, and I’d won the WDC. Ah, the stuff of dreams…