Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Doorfloof (floofinition) – Animal who likes to be at a door but doesn’t want to go through the door. Origins: circa 2000 BCE.
In Use: “A classic doorfloof, Tommy wanted the door opened, but then sat down in the open doorway so that he was half in and half out, and just watched the world and snoozed.”
In Use: “After moving into her house, Julie discovered a squirrel at her front door. The little doorfloof was present every morning at about ten AM through spring, summer, and autumn’s early days. Accepting the situation, Julie researched squirrels’ eating habits and was soon ready with a treat for her little friend, who she named Sparkle, for the little rodent’s bright eyes.”
Sitting here reading a food review. It’s a food gift basket for Mom. Reviewer says that the food in their gift basket was “delicious and tasty”.
My Neurons sat up straight. Aren’t those the same?
No. I always thought of them as being closely related but displaying a difference of degrees. Tasty is a less enthusiastic embrace of something.
“How was the chicken?”
“It was tasty.”
That’s a thin endorsement to me. I’m hedging. Something was wrong with it but I’m trying to put a positive tag on it.
Delicious, however, is an unreserved endorsement.
“How was the chicken?”
“It was delicious.”
To me, if it’s delicious, I’m unabashedly pleased.
So they’re not literally the same to me but in this world, they probably could be said to be literally the same. But in no way I would ever describe something as tasty and delicious. It’s one or the other.
Mood: Sunflective
Clouds in spiffy white parade past the window, bold against the blue. The sun throws a spotlight on them. Oh, sunshine, so good to have you back again.
It’s 46 F now, just a little short of the high projected for us. Clouds will dominate and rain might come. Could be worse. I was going through photos last night on my ‘puter. Looking for shots of friends. What I came across slowed my search with memories. Included was a photo of the snowy scene outside nine years ago, looking across the street.
Talking to my cats today, I noticed the differences in their style. Both speak a meow dialect of flooflish but their enunciation is different, as are many of their words. How they ask for food is worlds apart but I understand both. They, as teachers, know that repetition is important. They’ve repeated their requests for food over the years, drilling it into my head.
Nauseated by politics and justice in the United States, I took my head out of America’s ass for a bit to see how the rest of the world was faring. Nothing seemed real promising. Fires and volcanos, disasters, refugees, wars, and politics. With a sigh, I ducked back into my cozy silo. The Neurons drummed up a David Bowie song, “Heroes.” It played in my morning mental music stream (Trademark iffy) as I ate and invited coffee to engage my taste buds. I found a live version done at a slower beat that begins almost conversationally. My wife doesn’t like the song; says it’s too ‘strident’. Other friends didn’t like it because they thought it too commercial. But I like heroes, defiance, and declarations of intentions, so the song sits well with me. I do miss David B. Wish he was still around.
Let’s get a bead on the day and push ourselves. Hope you make it the best one you can. Here’s the music. And away we go. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 