Floomp (floofinition) – 1. A balled clump of animal hair or fur found on clothing, towels, and bedding after they’ve been washed.

In use: “Going to put on a pair of socks, Brenda discovered floomps on their bottoms, which she meticulously pulled off as her cat and dog came up, sat down, and watched. She would swear that her pets were smirking as they watched.”

2. A wave or heavy impact caused by an animal landing on a person, bed, or bouncy objects.

In use: ‘The little dog leaped up, landing on her with a floomp which made her say, “Oof. Not on the nipple, please. Why do you always land on my nipples?”‘

A Weird Car Trip Dream

Friends and I were awakening from sleep in a darkly cluttered place. Three or four others were there, including one friend from RL forty years ago. The others were dream friends but not anyone from this RL. As the sun rose, an old stage, perhaps once part of a high school but now outside, gained substance.

We talked about news while sitting up, rubbing sleep out of our faces, and stretching. One was complaining that people didn’t understand the news and headlines. Someone suggested that we should do plays where we would just read headlines and stories and then explain them. Sounded good to me. Someone else said that we needed to clean the area up but I asked why because the stage with its clutter and junk seemed like a meta statement about our world. As this conversation went on, the sun rose, daylight came up, papers were dropped off on the stage and people became walking past. We’d been rolling up our sleeping bags, putting other shirts on, and making coffee. Now one guy picked up a newspaper and started reading it aloud. People going past stopped to listen.

I went down steps, out the back, and met my cousin. He and I went off to collect our clothing, which was somewhere else, because we needed to get ready to go. He kept talking about what he was going to wear and asking my opinion of his ideas, but I wasn’t deeply invested in that and didn’t respond much. Reaching a building, we went upstairs and found our open suitcases. This wasn’t the clothes we wanted; that was at Mom’s house, my cousin thought, suggesting that we go there. I told my wife where we were going. She decided to come with us.

We entered a large white vehicle with a thick black stripe down each side. The inside was flat and wide, with a thin, gray carpet on the floor. Windows were on every side, giving great visibility. Some gray folding chairs were set up in it in the front, but we would need more. I set up some chairs that I found, dubbing one in the second row by the window as ‘mine’. Two people were already seated in the front row, where three chairs were set up. One of those was my SIL, who was waiting to leave as well, which startled me. For some reason, I didn’t expect her there.

My cousin had disappeared, and so had my wife. I went out to Mom’s home and found the clothes which I wanted, and put on a green shirt to wear while I traveled. Going back outside I saw cars pulling up and parking on the lush green lawn. “They’re not going to like that,” I told others several times, talking about the people who lived in this housing area. “They’re proud of their lawn. They should move their cars before they’re found.”

Everyone ignored me. I found my cousin back inside Mom’s house. Mom was talking to him as he complained that his clothes weren’t there. I looked and discovered that the suitcase holding his clothes had been emptied. I told him that he would just need to go in what he was wearing, which really upset him.

I returned to the white car. Nobody had set up any more chairs. The driver was present, adjusting his folding chair as a seat, along with my SIL, who was still in her seat. My wife was in the seat which I’d designated for myself. I complained about that with her; she ignored me. Exasperated, I set up another chair behind my SIL. I asked her where she was going, and she answered, “The same place as you.”

I responded, “I’m going back to school.”

She answered, “So am I.”

The car rocked with movement. Going to a window and looking out, I discovered that the car was tall and much larger than expected. We seemed to be twenty feet off the ground. I didn’t know how that was possible.

Dreams ends as the car moves forward with me looking out the window and others talking behind me.

Monday’s Theme Music

The furnace is running. It’s 36 F (2.2 C) outside, not so bad while you’re inside, where it’s sixty-eight. No sunshine through the windows, even after I opened the blinds and curtains, and the daylight is tentative. A mottled grey field meets my eyes when I turn them skyward. Autumn is finally surrendering its grip. Nude trees wave and bow.

It’s Monday, November 28, 2022, November’s final Monday. By the week’s midpoint, we’ll be in 2022’s final month. Winter is closing in with increased speed, having already arrived early in some places. But then, the calendar gives us an average. It’s different around the world, even in the northern hemes. South of the equator, summer is coming.

42 F and rain and snow showers will play for the afternoon. The sun delivered the daylight portion at 7:16 AM and the performance ends at 4:41 PM.

“Skin Deep” by Buddy Guy is playing in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons lured it out of memory last night when I was thinking about racism and prejudice and the insanity of it all. This song was offered as part of the Playing for Change series in 2018. I admire the project, and Buddy Guy is one of my favorite blues performers. Beyond Buddy, there’s other impressive singers and musicians coming together from diverse locations to present us this music, including several choirs. Hope you’ll take a listen.

Stay positive, test negative and do what’s needed to protect yourself, family, and community. You know, like masking to keep the spread down. Coffee is here so I shall retire to the solace of a cup. Here’s the music. I’m going to listen again. Cheers

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