Derfloofative (floofinition) – Animal behavior or actions which is imitative of behavior or actions of another animal or a person.

In Use: “A video of Riptide‘s derfloofative behavior when he attends an exercise class has people on the net watching and laughing.”

Marie’s House

She couldn’t recall a point in her life when she didn’t fear spiders, even though Mother always said, “Don’t worry, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”

Doubtful. She studied them, trying to ascertain whether that could possibly be true. Her intensity to verify or disprove her mother’s claim carried her into college. But it was while she was at home, on the toilet, that the incident took place.

Thoughts were busying her head that day. October always meant birthdays and celebrations, until now. Mother’s death changed that. She’d always known Mother would die. Had to be done as matter of senescence and statistics. She understood both well. But Mother was struck by a stranger with an umbrella, propelling her back down the steps she’d been climbing, and into the storm surge where hungry waves gobbled her up and passed her wave by wave deeper into the ocean. Her body wasn’t recovered for three months. She wasn’t Mother by then. More time was needed for her to transform in Marie’s head from presence to memory.

Which had nothing to do with the spider incident, except that she was distracted by grief’s weight. Mother’s house had become her house. Whether she wanted to remain in that house was the question. Something never considered before seemed almost certain. That surprised her. She’d always believed that she would leave Mother’s house. She had begun to think that it would be with a man, when she married. Then, perhaps with a woman, when she married. Or maybe, when she traveled the world, because she didn’t think she was going to ever marry.

But along came an American house spider. Comb-footed, yellowish brown with a dirty white abdomen. About a quarter inch in size. Large for the species and lighter in color so it was probably female. Common and nothing to be feared, on an intellectual level. It could have a painful bite. But, Marie still sometimes reacted to spiders on other levels when they surprised her. As this one did, landing on the back of her hand as she sat on her bum on the commode, crying about Mother and October.

Feeling it, she flinched. Seeing it, she screamed. Tried flicking the spider away. It rushed up her pale, almost hairless arm. By that point, four seconds had passed and calm was beginning to restore order to Marie’s intellect. But then the spider stopped. She bent to look at it more closely. It raised two legs at her. Like it was waving hello. Later, she wondered, was it actually casting a spell? Because it then disappeared into her skin.

That seemed wholly impossible and improbable, so Marie took forty-seven seconds looking for it, horrified that maybe it had fallen off her arm and into her crotch. She stood to finish her business, wipe her bottom, and flush the toilet, but she swayed. Light blue towels were on a rack to the toilet’s right. She lunged for that general area, missed and fell forward. When next she woke, she knew she was a spider. Not spider-girl, a human with spider-like capabilities. No, she was a human intelligence in a spider body in the corner of the bathroom that used to be Mother’s house, which was now hers.

Monday’s Theme Music

Welcome to Mocha Monday Madness! How I used to refer to Mondays. Back when I used to regularly visited coffee shops. We’re still under masks limitations in our county, which makes it all a little wearying. But we’re trending toward lower positivity. Fewer COVID-19 cases. Of course, if people had vaccinated, the story might be a little shinier. Even so, I think masks and limitations are here for a while. How long the while lasts depends on too many factors for serious guessing. With my track record, though, these thoughts will push Oregon to life mask restrictions for our county immediately. Just how life sometimes seems: contrarian.

Today is Monday, October 25, 2021. Sunrise came in with grey slug speed at 7:35 AM. Sunshine will spin out of our valley at 6:14 PM. Wind and rain will dominate topics and weather appearances. We’ll top out in the low sixties, which is higher than the current 46 degrees F.

Exasperations and frustrations inform today’s morning mental music stream occupant. Laura Branigan passed away back in 2004. Fifty-two years old. Her greatest commercial success came in the 1980s. That’s when this song was released. “Self Control” was a hit for her in 1984. Her song is basically about partying at night and losing control. Which was the quasi area I was shooting at in my thoughts. As modern frustrations arose, I reminded myself to maintain self-control. To not wallow in a negative energy pool. But that inspired my mental Alexa to pick up on self-control and deliver the Branigan song to my conscious awareness. Love how that works. Stream of consciousness music shuffle.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, get the vax and boosters when you can, and use self-control when called for. Here’s the music. I’m gonna go indulge in a that dark brew that I so enjoy. The one that gets my heart going. Yes, coffee. Cheers


Subservfloofent (floofinition) – Someone who unquestioningly obeys animals’ requests, especially when dealing with pets.

In use: “Becky acknowledged that she was subservfloofent to her dog, answering every bark or look immediately, asking, ‘What is it, what’s the matter, what can I get you?'”

Heavy Dreams

First was a dream about my feces. Yes, a little disgusting. Yet, intriguing. Probably only to me.

I’d completed a bowel movement in the dream. Then spoke to my wife — who was in the kitchen, cooking in this dream — saying, “Hey, look how my feces came out to the left.” She looked but didn’t comment. I continued, “And it’s sticking to the side of the toilet in the bowl.”

Which it was. She and I were able to see it like that because the toilet wasn’t in a bathroom. No; just sitting in the room which was part of the living room/dining room combo. No walls around it. No sinks or tubs. Then I was like, why is the commode like that? There was no cistern, no seat. Just the throat and bowl, leaving me to go, huh. Also, I wondered, why didn’t the feces flush away?

Then…went through the exact same sequence again. Like my brain was looping the dream on repeat.

But then…I began it again, then realized, wait, didn’t I already point this out to her? Yes, I had, I was sure. For it to happen once was bizarre, twice was disturbing, but three times was mystifying. I went over and inspected the toilet closer and noted that it was beside a hallway with steps leading down the front door. Dream end.

Next, though, it got a little weirder. I’d awakened at 4:15. Got up to pee. Was suddenly shocked by recollection of another dream.

I’d gone to sleep thinking about the nasty skunk smell, wishing the skunks would go away. In the dream, I’d gotten out of bed and walked through the house bellowing, “BE GONE.” As I did that, I was thrusting out my hands. Which pushed out energy waves that purged the house.

The dream had been so strong and real that what startled me was the thought, how did I get back to be?

Enough about dreams. There were at least two others recalled but I need to move on to other things.

As a side note, having WordPress issues today. Like, had to start over on this post because WP wouldn’t let me put in a title. Then, it added a line which will not go away.

The day has to get better.


Sunday’s Theme Music

Season’s greetings to you, my fellow autumnites. Today is Skunkday, October 24 2021.

Yes, Skunkday, where everything is coming up skunky this morning. Sometime about 2:43 AM, a massive skunk front swept through the house. It was Phase III of the Night of Nature. Phase I was furious winds beating up the house and trees. Wind died. The second assault began: heavy rain. Didn’t mind it. Then Phase III: the skunk assault.

Don’t know what transpired. Dawn at 7:34 AM brought no evidence for this amateur sleuth. No wind damage; just nose damage. Woof. The air purifier is on. Some windows open on the non-skunk side. We’ll see if the air is fresh by sunset at 6:15 PM.

More rain is expected today. Temperatures remain in the mellow zone — low, 42 F, high of 60. Winds have calmed again but we’re being warned that the bombogenesis that’s churning storms out off the coast will be sending more our way. BTW, I love that word, bombogenesis. I think whoever came up with it was probably stoned or tipsy. Sounds like a word my friends and I would come over cups of wine or mugs of beer.

No songs in the morning mental music stream this AM. Made coffee. No song. Fed the cats. No song. Figure that between my dreams — it was a heavy dream night — and the skunk and weather, my brain was too full to register music. But then, there, thinking my head is heavy with dreams brings up Collective Soul playing “Heavy” from 1999. Which is a relief. Thought my mental Alexa had gone on the fritz.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, like when the skunks battle, and get the vax and boosters when you can. Here’s the music. I’m going back to my coffee. Cheers

Luminal Floof

Luminal Floof (floofinition) – An animal at the threshold of change of life or situation, especially those who have endured and are starting anew under fresh circumstances.

In use: “The luminal floof, nominally a five-year-old cat appeared older, aged by years on the street, enduring winters, dodging traffic, and begging for food, still awaited a name at its new home, but took advantage of the quiet and secure warmth to stretch, yawn, and sleep.”

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