The Writing Moment

Starting the daily revision work with page 425, I did the math. Just 101 pages remained. Easily done. Can be completed by week’s end.

Then reality spit in my face. Stepping into page 425, I choked on misery. Such clumsiness in the prose. And chaos. Continuity had broken like a quake shook it apart.

Going retrograde, I slipped back two chapters, to where this scene left off. Might be a setback to hopes for a finish this week, but time isn’t nearly as important to me as getting it right.

Floof Rocket

Floof Rocket (floofinition) – A stunningly fast animal. Origins: United States, 1980s

In Use: “Each kitten displayed unique attributes, but the little female initially called Ruth Bader Kitsburg soon revealed she was a floof rocket, surprising everyone with her explosive speed.”

In Use: “After climbing the fence, it was like the beagle was catapulted away as his owner shrieked for Chester to stop.”

Recent Use: “Claire loved getting into the fenced backyard, becoming a floof rocket with the zoomies.”

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Optimungry. Yes, that’s that unique set of feelings of being strongly hopeful but very hungry.

Hey, all you Solsters*. Another day worth of declaring winter is still here. Up to 37 F now, and rain continues putting its shine on everything as the sun toils behind a thick stack of clouds. 46 F is the purported high for our neck of the valley.

Wednesday, Feb 7, 2024, has descended on Ashlandia without pomp or ceremony. Nothing special to write about it here in Ashlandia, but sometimes, nothing special is good. Everyone is going about their business and nobody is veering into another’s path to make their life difficult. The furnace is heating our house’s air, the cats have staked out their nap sites, and the neighborhood is quiet, even still. No people, machinery, birds, or dogs are heard. Grant’s Tomb is noisier.

Heading off to get our latest COVID-19 vaccination shortly. Finishing my coffee first. My wife is hosting her book club tonight, and I’m attending a brewery with a of friends. Meeting with them satisfies my need to socialize, have a beer with friends, discuss news, politics, etc, and keep close to remaining sane. I’m looking forward to discussing the ruling by the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit that Donald Trump isn’t above the law as a former POTUS, including actions he took while in office. The unanimous ruling by the three-judge panel validated what I remembered learning about the Federal government and the checks and balance system while in school. Now we’ll see if the SCOTUS gets involved, and if so, how they rule. Interesting days still ahead.

Today’s song is “Foolin'” by Def Leppard from 1983. The Neurons planted the song in my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) when I rhetorically asked of someone else, “Who do they think they’re foolin’?” Presto chango the song launched. I complain about earworms or involuntary musical imagery (INMI), but it doesn’t bother me much. I consider them an amusing process within my mental faculties. I’ve learned through research that 1 in 5 people experience an earworm a day, but they don’t usually lost long, just a few minutes. I’ve always wonder if experiencing and remembering vivid dreams are related to experiencing earworms as I do, and if it’s something in my mental processes and neural paths. At the same time, while I’ve always had a natural tendency for dreams, I began working to remember them when I was in my early teens and started keeping dream journals. Likewise, when I experience an earworm, I don’t often try shutting them down, but instead strive to recall all the details about my experience with the song.

If you’re still reading, you’re probably muttering, “Enough about you.” I agree. Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, register and vote. I’m trying for the same. Here’s the music. Cheers

* Solster: person who lives on a world dependent on the star called Sol.

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood:

Good morning, fellow planet dwellers. It’s time again for Tuesday. As a first (as far as I know, but you know how tricky memory can be), this Tuesday is on February 6, 2024.

It’s a sunny day here in Ashlandia, where the coffee is strong and fresh. Not warm, though. Rain cooled the night and more rain is sashaying our way. 40 F now, today’s high will take us all the way up to 45 F. Even so, with the sun and the front that moved in, it feels 48 F right now. That’s weather for you. While many parts of this region are suffering from storms brought on by atmo rivers, quirks of mountains and the jet stream protects us from those streams, basically pushing the rivers around Ashland.

Painters have been scrapping the house in prep for painting it. Tucker, black and white floof, doesn’t care; he ate and went to bed, but he is an older feller, a young elder as felines go. Papi is just middle-aged. Papi was out when the painters arrived, sitting on our walk as they parked. I tried calling him in, but Papi had to sit down and watch the painters, neck craning, body leaning forward, as they went about meeting, talking, and getting out equipment.

Papi is always like that: ‘I must know what’s going on but I also must get the heck out of here.’ Curiosity wins, though. He and the dog that lives across the fence in our backyard share mutual animosity. Whenever Papi goes out, day or night, he first turns and stares at that wall for his nemesis. His stance and appearance is like a gunslinger at high noon in the wild west, with his eyes narrowing into an angry squint.

Just finished reading Annieasksyou’s post about the resistance. I’ve shared it on my blog and Facebook, and recommend it as a read. It picked up my spirits because mass media and its commercialized, monetized mentality works hard to keep it an interesting ‘horse race’. They want everyone to believe that Trump is slightly ahead, and wonder, can President Biden overtake him? What are all the things going President Biden, they constantly frame it.

For those reasons and more, I’m dubious of polls. I think many people use it as a space to complain and don’t always indicate how they will vote. Just my feel about it; they think they’re turning up the flame by being negative. Secondly, Democrats keep winning the popular vote but lose in the Electoral College. Do the polls reflect that aspect of how the vote will go?

On to today’s theme music. The Neurons apparently think that I need to complete the “Lady” song trilogy that came to me the other day. Jill D. began it with Lionel Richie singing “Lady” (written by Kenny Rogers). The Neurons countered with the Little River Band and “Lady”. But circulating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) is “Lady” by Styx. Released in 1973, it was Styx’s second hit, and goes full rock ballad.

Remain positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote. Are you registered? One of Oregon’s many things to admire is that as soon as you get a DL in our state, you’re registered to vote, and it’s all mail-in.

Coffee has been sucked up. Here’s the music. Carpe diem. Cheers

Floofkaesque

Floofkaesque (floofinition)– Weird, surreal, or unusual noises or actions done by animals. Origins: 1990s Internet, based on Kafkaesque, a word derived from the writing style of Franz Kafka (1883-1924)

In Use: “When Oaou first joined the household, the small ginger whirlwind would come to the room entry where his people and bark like a small poodle, squawk like a parrot, or issue another floofkaesque noise, causing constant wonder about the little cat’s floofstory.”

In Use: “The crow was already friendly if floofkaesque, bringing shiny gifts such as metal tableware, bracelets, single socks, and plastic storage lids in return for the snacks Dee set out for him every morning and evening.”

Recent Use: “Social media provides many floofkaesque scenes, such as a video of a cat, dog, deer, and duck sitting together on the front porch of a person who has no pets.”

The Puzzle Dream

I thought of this as the puzzle dream but it could also be the cookie cutter dream, or the surprise flying dream.

Started, I was younger, in my early twenties, outside, part of a huge crowd of people, all about my age. They were passing out these white pieces that looked like plastic cookie cutters to me. Looking at it, I’m like, “What am I supposed to do with this?” No one close to me had any answers. Like me, they were regarding their piece with confusion.

But playing around with it, because that’s my nature, I discovered that I could make two pieces just by tugging on a side. That caused a new one to slide out while the original’s mass and structure didn’t change. Others were finding this, too. I wanted to know how many one piece could yield and soon found I had ten pieces. What the heck was I to do with them, though?

I thought the pieces were hard but since I could pull one piece out of another, I wondered if they were malleable, so I started twisted them and found, yeah, they were malleable. I could make them bigger or smaller. Someone else suggested, “Try putting them together.” I didn’t see a way at first but kept working it. Suddenly, I found that if I put two pieces edge to edge and then squeezed hard on the joined edge, they’d be one.

I rapidly began making more pieces, putting pieces together, and shaping them into something big. I had no idea what I was making. The shapes just pleased and interested me. What was boring was the color: these were all white, like, bright, refrigerator white. So tedious. I wanted to make them into another color.

A nearby female said something similar and then others spoke up, agreeing. Then a young man kind of gasped and said, “Look!” He’d changed a piece into red. We all asked, “How’d you do that?” He answered, “I don’t know.”

I started looking at mine and thinking as the others still questioned him. Holding a piece, I thought, blue, and it was immediately blue. The female who’d first mentioned the colors did the same, and we started talking about it. Then she and I and two other guys started putting pieces together from different sides, creating a four-sided thing together.

I wanted it bigger. Pulling my pieces back apart and explaining that to the rest, I asked some others to join us. We soon had a group putting pieces together on several sides, creating something big. Someone asked, “What is it?” My first thought was, “It’s a building.” Someone else said that, and another replied, “It’s a building that’s a city.”

Then I said, “No, it’s a spaceship.” I told them, “It’s a multi-generational spaceship so that we can live in space and travel to other parts of the universe.” Questions about it were asked of me and I answered, developing a greater vision of it as I did. People protested that it’s not big enough. I answered, “This is a model so that we can build the real thing after we figure it out.”

Then a man came by and told us, “Stay playing with the blocks.”

First, I didn’t think of them as blocks.

He continued, “Take this. I want you to learn out to use them.”

“Use them for what?” a woman asked.

“To fly,” the man answered.

The things he was passing out while talking were like plastic white shoelaces about ten inches long. Four of them were attached on one flat end so the strings were parallel to one another. I, like others, was skeptical. “We’re going to fly with these?”

“Yes. Twirl them over your head.” The man held up white streamer and twirled it over his head. “Just do it like that.”

I laughed, completely disbelieving of him. While others questioned him, “You twirled it and you’re not flying,” I twirled mine. They were more difficult to twirl than I expected. I kept changing my grip and trying different speeds. Suddenly I took off. As soon as I did, I stopped twirling, surprised by success, and dropped back to the ground. Others had seen and rushed over, demanding, “How did you do that?”

Dream end.

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