Exfloofulate(floofinition) – To earnestly discuss matters with an animal to dissuade them from behavior or remonstrate. Origins: 1573, Europe.
In Use: “After Honey overturned the kitchen trash can, Marsha exfloofulated all the reasons why Honey shouldn’t do things like that as Honey sat there and listened, occasionally wagging her tail.”
In Use: “Bob was sound asleep when Lucy awoke him with a bellowing meow, causing Bob to pick Lucy up and exfloofulate, beginning, ‘What is wrong with you, you stupid cat? That was totally unnecessary.'”
I feel terrific. Yes, I have a mild, unproductive, intermittent cough. My eyes feel little hot. I’m dealing with some congestion. My right foot is swollen. So is my left, but that’s just edema I must deal with. My right ankle is sore and suspect, but I’m adjusting to life like that. Ditto with my bloated feeling.
No, the problem today is that I feel terrific. I have high energy levels. I’m optimistic. So, I want to know from my body, from my physical being, What are you up to? Why do I feel this way.
See, I just don’t trust my body any longer. It gives up on unusual things at surprising moments, like putting on underwear. So when it feels ‘good’ and I’m upbeat, I want to know, What’s going on?
My body is up to something. Setting me up to be less alert so it can take me down.
The pendulum is swinging. It’s Friday, August 30, 2024, and the hours of daylight have noticeably reduced. It’s an advantage at sun soars through blue cloudless skies, working with the air to lift the temperature next to triple digits during the day, like 97 F today. But then the clear skies and longer night lets the temps skivvy down to the upper fifties, delivering relief. Slips of autumn have climbed back into my life. Some maples have shifted into fall fashions. Starbucks is offering fall drinks. School is back is session at every level locally. And football is again rolling across TV screens, carrying news through feeds.
But first: we must get through Labor Day. In the U.S., we have the bookend holidays of Memorial Day and Labor Day. To many, MD marks summer’s unofficial beginning, and LD is the unofficial end.
I read several news articles in depth this morning. One was about how Republicans have softened their climate change stance. They rarely outright deny it these days. I guess that with so much extreme weather killing and maiming our world, they recognize that they look and sound like fools when they do. Instead, they like to problemtize the solutions which Democrats — and much of the world — recommends. Like moving to more sustainable forms such as wind and solar. No, these caus more problems, they inform their constituents, even as they lie about what’s happening.
Last day of my theme of time in the song’s title. As many of age and are forced to cope with changes, we lament the same thing. The Neurons brought the song that asks the question into the morning mental music stream (Trademark timed): “Where Have All the Good Times Gone?” It originally popped onto the rock music scene in the hands of the Kinks in 1965. It’s since been covered by a chunk of performers, most notably Bowie and Van Halen. But I stayed with the Kinks for this day. Ray Davies of the Kinks wrote it and said in an interview:
“We’d been rehearsing ‘Where Have All the Good Times Gone’ and our tour manager at the time, who was a lot older than us, said, ‘That’s a song a 40-year-old would write. I don’t know where you get that from.’ But I was taking inspiration from older people around me. I’d been watching them in the pubs, talking about taxes and job opportunities.”
I never saw any person in this dream. At a high elevation, I was looking and across a shallow valley. It was hazy with distance but I made out places terraced with book stones. Ponds dotted the landscape, along with colored patches such as pink, magenta, yellow, and various greens and browns, where I knew things were growing.
A voice said to me, “Take what you want. It’s all yours.”
I replied, scoffing, “I don’t need all of that.”
They insisted, “Take what you want.”
So, I took it all. Then I broke it up and gave it away to others, including family, friends, and strangers. I kept one small piece for myself, and that made me happy.
Michael Seidel, writer 