Floofvent

Floofvent (floofinition) 1. A community of animals, or the building where such a community gather.

In use: “Sacred places, floofvents are often kept secret from humans, as humans have repeatedly demonstrated that many of them cannot be trusted and are a menace to animals.”

2. To proclaim loudly and at length, sometimes with vehemence, about matters involving animals.

In use: “Coming home to discover wrecked plants, an overturned trash can in the kitchen, and two shredded toilet paper rolls strewn around the house, Penni indulged in a floofvent for the first fifteen minutes after her arrival.”

3. An animal’s long, nonstop tirade about something bothering them.

In use: “Hearing sirens often provoke floofvents from some dogs, as they howl back at the noise.”

Unfinished Business Dream

My wife and I were young folks, in our twenties, in this dream, and very realistic to who we were in RL, including our clothes. She was busy with cleaning. I was tinkering with the kitchen faucet, which wasn’t going well. I’d change one thing and it would start spraying sideways. Something else would be adjusted, causing the water to shoot straight up. But I was determined: I will fix this. Yet, I was laughing, telling my wife as the water shot off in a new strange arc, “Check this out.” Unbelievable.

Surrendering to that temporarily because I thought I needed to think about what to do, I went off for more DIY. I’d noticed a younger person holding up a wall in the corner of another room. That might be something that I needed to address. I went in there and asked them about the situation. They were holding up the wall because it would fall over if they didn’t. “Let me see,” I said. “Step back.”

They did. The wall started toppling over.

The two of us jumped in and held it up. “But is it the wall coming down or just, like, wallpaper?” I asked. I thought that’s what I’d actually seen. We tentatively released the wall, confirming that it wasn’t the wall coming down, but just the cover.

Then I was arriving at work. Dressed in a suit with tie, I joined others in a small but well-lit office with lots of windows. “Hello, Michael, about time you got here,” I heard. Stepping into a small office where the voice seemed to emanate, I found the one accosting me was Jeffrey Donovan, of “Burn Notice” and other television shows and movies. “I’m your new boss,” he cheerfully informed me. “You’re working for me now.”

Then, I was arriving at work again, sighing because it seemed like I was just hear. “Hi Michael, good morning,” I heard from Donovan. WTH, why was he singling me out like that?

I arrived on a third morning and sighed. “Hello, Michael,” Donovan called out.

“It wasn’t me,” I shouted back, lying. Then I leaned in around his office door. “How did you know it’s me when you’re in here?”

“I have eyes everywhere,” he answered.

I was done with work. Instead, I was cutting grass and doing general landscaping chores. I was part of a crew of four others. One was a friend and the other two were strangers, but we all got on well. While we worked, we saw an area where another crew had worked; we scoffed at the job they’d done. We could do better.

The home’s owner, an elderly and tall, white woman with silver hair who looked and sounded like Bea Arthur, came out and complimented us on our work. We pointed out where the other crew had been and told her that we could improve it. After some back and forth, she agreed that we could the other area, too. Happy that we’d won more work, we set to work improving it.

A large pool was alongside our work area. Others were swimming. Four young men staged a race. We mocked them because we thought ourselves better swimmers. Then we wondered which of the four of us was the fastest swimmer.

The owner appeared. We asked if she minded if we had a race in her pool. “Go for it,” she answered.

We lined up in our trunks. After counting to three together, we dove in and raced to the far end. I came in second to my friend.

Dream end.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Excitement is building. They’re forecasting some snow for our state and area next week. Maybe a few inches. Oh, heaven! Snow on the banks. We need it. We’re all worried about the heat, drought, fire, and smoke endured for the last several years. We’d like to avoid more of the same. Some say that last year was the worst because the COVID-19, wildfire, and smoke sucked enjoyment out of going anywhere or doing anything. But the year before, fire struck our town and heavily gutted two neighboring towns. Toss up, to me.

This is Saturday, 2/29/2022. Sunrise kicked in at 7:02 AM. And what a sun. Let’s give the sun a hand. Heat, light, very impressive display. The sky is blue forever and on. Whatever storms and clouds are lurking out there are doing so beyond the mountains that hem our valley. It’s presently 46 degrees F and we will see something in the upper fifties for a high today before the sun downs itself beyond the world’s curvature at 5:48 PM.

Today’s theme song comes from the film, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. I’ve used “We Don’t Need Another Hero (Thunderdome)” (1985) by Tina Turner before. It came to me today because I looked at my poor sick black cat and said, “Aren’t you a sight, raggedy cat.” Which reminded me of a line that Aunt Entity said to Mad Max. That lined up the neurons to begin playing the song. So here it is, friends and neighbors. Give it all or nothing.

Stay positive, test negative, wear masks as the situation warrants, and get vaxes and boosts when you can. I’m off to meet my maker and pour a cuppa, right? Cheers

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