Flooftet (floofinition) – Small group of animals of different species, sizes, and ages. A flooftet is considered more than two but less than nine. Origins: Internet, circa 2015.
In Use: “When Maria entered the living room, she discovered a flooftet looking at her. The bird and rabbit seemed floofchalant, but the cats and dogs wore guilty expressions, as if she’d caught them plotting.”
In Use: “Movies about flooftets, such as Homeward Bound: the Incredible Journey from 1993, often attract audiences who enjoy warm and humorous adventure romps starring animals.”
I was hoping for a sunny day outside my window. But it’s raining again. And there ain’t no sunshine.
It’s October’s final Monday. The month’s 28th day. Still 2024 for just over two more months.
Rain keeps a light, steady background staccato to the morning rituals. Clouds from mountain to mountain rule outside my window. Mountain tops wear gothic lighting as they fade behind sullen gray moisture-bearing behemoths. While it’s 42 F now, it feels like 48 F, which is the day’s hopeful high. This is this week’s weather prototype.
The cats send mixed signals about the season’s new weather setup. Papi the ginger blade goes out and endures on the covered patio in his carpeted condo. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) goes out for a test and nixes an extended stay, arthritically humping back into house’s warm offerings. Eventually Papi will beat on the door and return inside and then head to a sleeping position to pass the day. That’s become his new pattern.
Fun fact: on this day in 1886, the Statue of Liberty was unveiled. Yeah, I didn’t know; just saw it in my feed.
He also lamented poor Abe Lincoln’s loss of Ted during Lincoln’s presidency. Ted: the forgotten Lincoln boy. His supporters of course, insisted that we give him a break, because he was close enough to knowing that it was Willie who died while Lincoln was in the White House.
That’s his supporters’ style: give him a break for being ‘close enough’ to things. Meanwhile, they demand perfection of Kamala Harris. Hypocrisy’s stench covers the GOP.
The Neurons are feeding me Pink Floyd as the gray light floods and stills over the day. They have “Brain Damage/Eclipse” looping the morning mental music stream (Trademark cut). I’ve always had a fondness for these songs, the first about the lunatic, the second about everything under the sun.
They do go hand in hand with thoughts of Trump these days. He’s always talking up hating, enemies, and destroying, along with everyone he meets, while we speak of all that he begs, borrows, and steals. He’s the con of the deal, the madman on the stage, offering trinkets to support him, riffing on fake history, making vainglorious claims. Really, though, the enemy within is the enemy in his head.
The cats are in and my coffee is snuggling into my body’s systems. Be strong, remain positive, and vote blue. My wife dropped off our votes at the ballot box this morning. Here’s the music.
Spent part of yesterday & today answering friends’ call for help.
Short story: someone was on the net and was duped into some ‘click here’ bait. A warning sprang up with an number and a directive: call here for help. Social engineering took over after that.
Sometime in the course of being fleeced, the user awoke to something nefarious happening and shut it down. The resulting question was: how bad was it?
He called his daughter and SIL in LA for help. They enlisted my assistance as hands and eyes on the infected machine. I picked it up, did some top level examination of what’d been downloaded, installed, and accessed. Worse culprit was the Supremo app. That’s an app that let’s others remotely access and control the machine. Downloaded but never installed, I trashed that thing.
Then I set it up so that the SIL had remote access by installing an IT app that he requested I install. He sorted through files to confirm nothing had been seriously compromised. Some banking log in information had been compromised. Fortunately, the new location wasn’t recognized and the log in was challenged and denied. That two-factor authentication paid off.
Bottom line: fresh and clever scams are out there. While others have tricked people with banking issues or special offers, this friend was tricked into clicking on an offer to see what new childhood classmates had been found. On my end, I was tricked through a offer for flowrs for Mom’s birthday.
With so many scams hitting us, remember to be careful out there.
It was a morning of listening: that sounds like rain. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) at hand we burrowed deeper between warm covers. Another noise struck my attention: ah, the heat was on. Sleep was waving me in for another go-around when a more familiar sound rolled over my eardrums.
Papi wanted in.
Activity associated with letting Papi in served to trigger Tucker’s appetite. Jumping down, he barked in a loud scratchy meow, “Breakfast.” Catching on and always the opportunist, Papi yelled, “Me, too.” So that was it. Time to rise and face Sunday, October 27, 2024.
Reminder for most ‘Mericans: we do as Cher urges, more or less, and turn back the hour next Sunday.
It’s a bleak Nosunday outside the windows. One fat lazy cloud has claimed the sky with a gray cloak. Rain has lessened its profusive flow and now spits at us with a little contemptuous attitude. The temperature hunkers at 51 F. Never fear, as it’s destined to climb to 52 F. They tell us that it feels like 56 F. That’s a tiny comfort.
Need I mention that the cats went out and returned quick as a cat. Papi did it three times, per the Interflooftional Standards for In & Out. The standards state that once is a floofcident, twice is a cofloofcident, but three times is a trend.
With the rain chilling our vibes, I kicked on the gas fireplace. A survey followed to check how the rain fell. It was my contention that no rain hit any window. A thanks is owed to our wide eaves and covered porches for that. But back in the living room with my observation confirmed, coffee joined me, and I watched the fireplace.
“Fire & Rain.” The Neurons began it forthwith in my morning mental music stream (Trademark damp). I’d featured the James Taylor song back in 2017. In that post, I mentioned how I associated it with a young crush on a girl named Susie. Wonder what she’s up to these years? Will she vote for Harris or Trump? She was intelligent and intent on a college path. Her mother, who I met briefly twice, came across as an energetic progressive, but you know. People’s opinions and voting preferences change. Sometimes they skew with unexpected directions and impulses.
Be strong, remain pos, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is doing its utmost to keep me warm and energized. Here is the music. Cheers
Papi the ginger blade was demanding entry back into the house.
I let him in and returned to bed. The time was 4 AM. I told myself to go back to sleep. My brain wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, I thought about going into surgery on Wednesday. I felt I was close to finishing the novel in progress. It could be done before the surgery if I have three good writing days. I wanted that. Then I ended up staying awake, writing the story in my head.
When I sat down at the coffee shop, I put those words down into the document and realized, the end.
I was inspired by the book, “Gravity’s Rainbow”. I’d read the book in the past and was just browsing, and came across some reference to it. Then I had an idea, and “Gravity’s Emotions” was begun.
Word can tell you some things about a doc. Tells me that this one was started July 19, 2024. 432 pages, 117,480 words. 9218 minutes of editing. Anyone who knows that a day has 1440 minutes knows that’s not a huge amount of time. Just 6.4 days if you do the math. 6.4 days if I’d worked 24/7.
As always, it feels a little weird to be finished. Bit sad. “Like a death in the family” a writer of fame once said.
I worry about it. Don’t know if the plot makes sense or if people will buy into the character. I fret over the ending is too pat.
I told myself when I began writing this thing, just get out of your own way and stay out of the way.
Now, with it ‘done’, at least in this phase of novel writing, I need to remind myself again: just get out of your own way.
It’s Saturday morning. October 26, 2024. 51 F, 73 F on the horizon. Yesterday’s clouds slipped away to do other things, depositing a clear sky afterwards. We still have that blue sky, and the sun has come up to light everything up and warm us a bit.
While I was out yesterday, I heard someone through the coffee house glass calling another. “Hey. Hey.” My mind began buzzing with a little of Pink Floyd’s “Hey You” after that incident. If you remember, that song came out on their album, “The Wall” in 1979.
Then we headed to Empty Bowls. Arriving fifteen minutes after doors opened, we discovered a packed place. Almost every seat was taken, and the food line circled around three sides of the place. I was told that they’d originally reduced the tables from 12 to 9 but then put the last three back in at the last minute. Good thing. Not only were they needed, but additional tables were put on the stage. In my years of attending this thing, that’s the first time that happened.
I sample two soups and enjoyed both. A pianist played in the corner, offering slow piano versions of rock songs like “Free Bird” and “Running On Empty”. BTW, myMy wife and a friend created the centerpieces, with gorgeous results.
By luck, we ended up sitting with the same guy from last year, Benjy, a data analyst for Harry & David who lives in Talent. We were at the same table, too. Such a coincidence.
As we talked, he mentioned how we — liberals, progressives, Democrats — needed to fight for the Constitution with this election. That comment cemented “Hey You” in my mind, and now it’s playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark not free). That comes around from the combo of ‘hey you’ and the other line, ‘don’t give in without a fight’.
Coffee and I have reach an agreement whereby I’ll allow some to stream down my throat and it will give me energy. Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Here’s the music. Cheers
HOF: Human Opportunity Floof(floofintion) – An animal who enjoys any and all people they encounter or will beg for treats and/or attention from any person they met. Origins: Internet, first noted use in 1999.
In Use: “Quinn of the blackfoot clan, with his long silky fur and sweet face, was a true HOF, eagerly greeting people who passed by his house, letting them shower him with scratches, compliments, and back strokes.”
Michael Seidel, writer 