Flooformation

Flooformation (floofinition) – 1. Animal’s ability to change its look, attitude, or behavior.

In use: “Crystal was a sweet little Bombay black with a softly questioning meow, a deeply happy purr, and the most gorgeous black velvet fur. She loved sleeping on laps, but the first sound of an animal fight brought a flooformation into baleful-eyed ninja cat, terrifying other animals — and humans who got in her way.”

2. A change to an animal brought about by care, patience, and/or medical assistance.

In use: “His first years in the neighborhood, Tucker was identified as a black and white terror, a beast unwilling to back down and eager to bring it on. Dental work, patient words, and a home to call his, and his flooformation into a doting lap cat began.”

3. The standard pecking order or line up shared by animals.

In use: “When Michael took the cats for a walk at night — his three, with the neighbor’s big orange cat joining them — they always used the same flooformation, Jade on point, Rocky and Sammy flanking her, and the neighbor cat finishing the diamond as a rear guard. With Michael setting the pace and direction, the five moved as one.”

Fursday Theme Music

Sunshine beamed in on gray rays at 6:45 Ashlandia morning time. As the hours scurry past, snow fields lose their battle against heat. Their edges draw in with softer roundness. Reinforcement flurries are flying in later today. Will it be enough? Will it arrive in time? It’s dire for the snow. Caught in the situation, icicles cling to gutters and drainpipes. Crystallized snow falls off branches and leaves with tinkling hisses.

It’s 31 F, on its way to 44 F, according to the weather mongers.

It’s Thursday, March 2, 2023, a hazy wintry shade. Spring has temporarily slid its intentions back into the Ashlandia shadows. But fresh stocks of doughnuts are in stores and bakeries. Sunset arrives in the evening, 6:03.

Les chats aren’t pleased with the weather situation, particularly Papi. His energy boils up. Sunshine reinvigorates him. Tthere he goes, dashing through the snow…well, not dashing, but employing small steps, bean-toeing on his tiny paws — such small murder mittens, he has — back to the house’s inside warmth for distraction. We have things to do, we explain to him, around petting and playing with him. More, he begs with sweet eyes and voice. What are we to do against such a power but obey?

I cleaned our carpetting the other day. As I drifted through that mechanical process, my freed mind contemplated me, my life, my writing. Cleaning house is always a meditative function for me. As thoughts joined and fragmented, I drifted through the usual shallows of who I am, where I’m at, and where I’m hiding. Out of this, The Neurons pulled a song up, dusted it off, and put into into the mental music stream where it still plays this morning. “Holly Holy” by Neil Diamond” when I was a young teenager. Looking it up, records show it was 1969. It wasn’t a popular song among my friends. Too slow and most said, “I don’t understand it.” Nor did I. It’s buildup hooked me, and I sat, listening to the words, trying to get them right, baffled by what I heard. But I heard and understood some of the first lines, “Where I am, what I am, what I believe in,” had me. This is an exploration and a declaration. I identified with it.

Coffee’s aromatic steam rises from my cup, enticing my lips. Stay pos, and own this Thursday like it’s a gift you didn’t expect. Here’s the tune. Cheers

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

He hated to do it. It seemed shameful. But.

He was helping a friend, staying in contact, checking on her, trying to encourage her. But she’d become belligerent lately. Combative. Seriously negative.

It exhausted him. He decided he needed a break. Had to take care of himself so he could take care of her. It felt like a rationalization, but he knew he was right.

The Case of the Snowy Footprints

I looked out the front door windows. It’s a daily thing, glancing out when I first leave the bedroom, on alert for zombies, mushroom clouds, or cats waiting to come in. What I saw locked me in the space.

Footprints in the snow came up the walk to the porch.

I’d checked the area around three AM. I’d been up – cat business – and fetched a glass of water. Since I was in the area, I looked out. No footprints marred the walk’s snow, then. Not even animal prints.

Putting on shoes and picking up my phone, I went out to ensure nothing on the porch was gone. Two chairs and a glider are out there. But thieves have been going around stealing whatever is available. The footprints were photographed. One compared to my foot, so I’d guess it’s a men’s 10 ½. The other was smaller.

I traced the steps to the garage. They’d followed my tire tracks up to the garage and then went up the walk.

Could be I’m paranoid. Maybe totally innocuous. Our security camera died last year.

Time to buy a new one.

Marchday’s Theme Music

March 1, 2023. Congratulations. You did it! You made it to the next month. That’s how we’ll get ahead, one step, one day, one month, one year at a time. It’s the long game. As Bob sang, “Turn the page.”

Today is Wednesday. Temperature has climbed to 32 degrees F, on its way to 42 F. Snow still covers everything except the streets. Sunrise at 6:46 delivered a mega-watt shine off all that snow. My eyes were bypassing my brain to tell my hands, put on those sunglasses. Sunset will close the daylight on this winter Ashlandia day at 6:01 PM.

Yesterday AM was spent reading and writing as the snow fell. When will it stop, we wondered, and asked Alexa. She informed us it was cloudy. Snow will start at 1 PM. What? “Alexa, what are the chances of snow in Ashlandia?”

“There is a fifty-four percent chance it will snow in Ashlandia.”

We laughed at the silly tech. Checking online, they said the snow will stop in sixty-one minutes.

It didn’t. It stopped about 85 minutes later.

Roads were plowed and cindered. All was melting. We’d been planning to clean the carpeting on that day. My wife suggested that we hold off because, snow. But seeing conditions, I decided to press on. I picked up the machine and did the deed. It looks great. Now the machine must be returned.

Today’s music was suggested by The Neurons. Someone mentioned a hot toddy would be nice in an online post. The Neurons immediately sang, “Hot toddy, check it and see. I want a toddy inside of me.” All this was to the Foreigner song, “Hot Blooded” from 1978. Wasn’t long before the proper lyrics were ringing in the morning mental music stream.

Stay pos. Hope your Wednesday and your March take you higher. (That triggered Sly and the Family Stone with, “I Want to Take You Higher”.) I need coffee. See you later.

Here’s the tune. Cheers

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