Idiot Floofvant

Idiot Floofvant (floofinition) – Person who is highly knowledgeable about one animal or species but knows little about other animals or species.

In use: “Having lived with thirteen cats over the last five decades (and friends with a dozen more), Michael acknowledged he’s an idiot floofvant who knows cats and that’s it.”

Sunday’s Theme Music

Papers, please. We need to check you papers. Don’t you know? It’s Sunday, June 11, 2023. We need to check your papers and see if you’re on the right date and have the correct authorizations for being on this date. You know how it is. You start on one day, then, without any fault on your part, you’re on another. Confusion sets in, forcing you to ask others, “What day is it? What’s the date?” I have a calendar on my way to keep me straight. My computer also shows the day and date. As does my Fitbit. And phone. So I can crosscheck what they claim. I mean, machines, am I right?

Sprimmer is still on tap in Ashlandia. Moody clouds of different sorts and backgrounds. Some block the sun, then the sun re-asserts itself and throws down a hearty blaze. 61 F now, we anticipate highs in the mid 80s. We’re rolling on toward that longest day in the northern hemi, the once called summer solstice. Longest in theory, in general, on average. Our longest day in Ashlandia generally takes places a few days after the ‘official’ date. I suppose it’s because we’re a little rural, and it takes time for news to reach us. Yes, even with computers.

Papi was lounging out by our front porch yesterday in the early evening. I heard people talking through the open window so I looked out. Women walking by had stopped to speak with Papi and admire him. Papi eyed them like an imminent threat. He’s not one for flirting with strangers. I’m about the only one he’s consistently warm with. My wife tries and Papi tries to let her, but the results are uneven.

Had it been the late Quinn, he would have dashed right out there, offering himself up. He was the friendliest and sweetest floof I’ve ever had. The late Boo would have bolted away as soon as he heard them coming. They would have seen him. Scheckter would’ve talked to them but not allow an approach. Most of the rest would have just shrugged them off. As Tucker did later, when he’d joined Papi on the front porch and the women came back down the street. He was completely indifferent to them.

The Neurons have installed “Wondrous Stories” by Yes from 1977 in my morning mental music stream. Started last night when I was watching telly. Had been reading, writing before that, with yardwork and housework mixed in. At that point I was thinking about stories and the book I’d just finished reading. Eventually, I just realizing that “Wondrous Stories” was playing in my head. A mellow tune, has sort of a renaissance sound, not unusual for Yes.

Stay pos. Enjoy your weather wherever you are. By the way, it’s Father’s Day in the U.S. I sent Dad a card and will call him later. He’s in San Antonio, Texas, so I need to adjust for his time and schedule when I make the call. They’re always out at this time. So, first, coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

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