Revolflooftion(floofinition) – 1. The course of an animal following a regular pattern.
In use: “Whenever he went into his fenced backyard, Spunky completed several revolflooftions of the grounds, sniffing out the news about visitors and guests.”
2. A sudden, complete, radical change in how an animal behaves or eats.
In use: “After being a stoic monk for the first three days, the little rescued foster went through a revolflooftion, becoming a small food vacuum that needed replenished every three hours.”
3. An animal’s takeover of a household or group of animals, regardless of species.
In use: “Within a week of her arrival, Bonnie — now known as Queen B — had staged a revolflooftion and ruled the other animals with a velvet paw.”
We received the official report about what happened to our friend, who was killed last month.
Mike was at the Senior Center, loading supplies into the back of his Subaru for his Food & Friends delivery route when the accident took place. First stories had us believing that a young man in a large pickup came blasting down the short, narrow road. Mike’s car was not touched at all, so that story baffled us. Next, we heard that a senior male was driving down the road, saw Mike, meant to step on the brake but instead pressed the gas. That was closer to the truth.
The whole story was that a senior man was backing up his truck to pick up his Food & Friends supplies. He’d gone up on the curb and pulled forward to try again. Intent on staying off the curb, he didn’t see Mike until the last minute. When he did, he panicked and pressed the gas instead of the brake, trapping Mike between the two vehicles’ rear bumpers.
Mike’s legs were crushed, his femoral arteries and veins severed. He bled out in less than a minute. Even though we now have all the facts, we still struggle to make sense of his death.
The sky looks like a gray warship going by. “Sun?” the valley asks. “What is this sun you speak of?”
Today is Sunday, April 10, 2022, but winter is on the stage for an encore, bringing snow to the upper levels — three thousand feet — and rain down in the valley, a perfect complement to the cold air. It’s 39 F now. We expect 50 but I don’t know… The cats are doubtful, curling up in warm spaces and already asleep, their day plan already being executed. We humans take snow and rain here in southern Oregon. Give us something to refill the water tables in all its phases and elements, and water the food chain.
The sun’s moment came at 6:39 AM but she balked over showing off her blaze. She leaves our stage at 7:47 this evening.
Another night of brisk dreams had my neurons singing several songs. Finally, while in the bathroom shaving and thinking about my reflection, they began singing bits of a song about being older, so much older. Took a minute or two to realize the neurons were having fun with me, playing the opening lines to John Mellencamp’s “Hurt So Good”. The neurons were sobered some when I pointed out that the song came out when I was living on Okinawa, which would put it forty years ago. They were like, “Wow, we were only twenty-six then. Where does the time go?” “Indeed, my little neurons,” I replied, “indeed.”
Gotta admit, this seems like a strange music video. Never saw it before. Was reluctant to post it after watching it. But I did, though I grimaced.
Stay positive, test negative…you know the routine by now. If you don’t, then I think you might be a lost cause. Coffee is coming up and I am out of here. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 