The word of the year for my wife is crazo.
Recent examples of use:
“The 2024 election results are crazo.”
“They wanted almost $12 for a dozen eggs. That’s crazo.”
“I’m going shopping early tomorrow morning. I need to go before it gets crazo.”
The Tigers Dream
A bit of a shambolic dream IMO.
There’d been some sort of apocalypse. Buildings and cities remained but the people were gone. Well, most. Handfuls of survivors roamed. I was one of them. We were extremely wary of one another. I somehow came to be with another man (no one known in real life). He and I had established a sort of fortress for ourselves. Large, well lit, mostly white with wooden accents, the hallways were broad and tall. Snug and comfortable, we were well-stocked and sure we’d survive. The big question hampering us was, but survive to what end? We halfheartedly spoke of it but reached no conclusions.
As I went through one section of our fortress, enjoying sunshine streaming through high windows, I discovered two deer in a room. That surprised me but turning, I realized that another room had two huge tigers. Bent on going after the deer, the tigers didn’t seem to notice me. Sneaking over, I closed the door on the tigers’ room. Then I closed the door on the deers’ room so they wouldn’t wander through our place. I was confused about how the animals had gotten in and also worried about how we were going to get them back out.
Going around to find my partner to warn him about the tigers and tell him about the deer, I found people trying to get into the front door. That was an all-glass area, and I could see them. Seeing me, they called out for me to let them in.
Scene shift.
Now we had like a little village going and were helping others. An enormous number of tigers were prowling. I figured they must have all escaped from zoos and then procreated. I kept encountering them but none ever threatened me. They didn’t even seem to notice I was there. But others were oblivious to the tigers, and I’d need to rush forward and give them warning. Most of them that I warned were children and women.
In parallel to this, I began collecting computers and testing them to see if they worked. When they didn’t, I’d take them apart to see what parts were needed and then go look for parts. I soon had a collection of many parts and had several computers going.
Then I was distracted from working on them by a leopard threatening a group of children. A leopard was a surprise; I’d not seen any before. Tail slashing back and forth, the leopard gazed at me as I approached. Yelling, “Shoo, shoo,” and making a shooing motion, I jumped toward it. Snarling a bit, the animal turned and left.
Dream end.
Supfloofvisor
Supfloofvisor (floofinition) – Animal who oversees or takes charge of organizing or directing activities. Synonym: Supfurvisor. Origins: 1970 United States
In Use: “Border collies and corgis are two dog breeds known for being supfloofvisors, and often want to round up other animals and guard things.”
In Use: “Popsicle, aka Pop, always arrived for meal preparation, setting himself as supfloofvisor, meowing and waving a paw until he was permitted to sniff each ingredient.”
Friday’s Theme Music
Mood: Stormrelief
Friday morning, November 22, 2024, and my first thought comes: it’s quiet.
Different around 11:30 last night. Sounded like B-52 formations taking off on full throttle out of Guam over our house as relentless wind bore down on us. Rain shattered the night with a Buddy Rich drum solo for a while afterward. Flash memories of being with Dad when tornadoes were roaring around us came up. Then came recall of being in typhoons with my wife in Japan.
Morning recon showed only the water barrell out of place. Glances up and down the street were given; trees and utility poles are intact and upright. Telephone and utility lines looped as expected. Cars remain parked, and roofs still grace houses. Looks like disaster was dodged. I hope other places are faring well but suspect tales of power outages, injuries, and death will come. Typically do when a bomb cyclone drops.
With the storm came warm temps. 49 F now, gray clouds and blue sky approach and retreat. Sunshine gives an uneven performance. We expect a 52 F high today.
This weather experience cajoled The Neurons into thinking of weather songs. “Oh, stormy, bring back the sunny days.” And, “It’s flooding down in Texas. All of the telephone lines are down.” And, “Here I am. Rock me like a hurricane.” Or, “Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind.”
The Neurons eschew all that. The Pixies instead enter the morning mental music stream (Trademark buffeted) with “Stormy Weather”.
Having decided that my foot and ankle swelling was due in major part to my edema issues, I went on a green smoothie fast yesterday. Sodium intolerance and veinous insufficiency seem to be the bad actors behind my edema so I wanted to knock the sodium down a bit. I’m also wearing open-toe compression socks on both legs. Overall, the one-day treatment seems helpful. I was swollen by the day’s end but it didn’t seem like it was as bad as previous days. Slept with my legs up. The swelling dissipated, as it always does. It’s fluid moving from one place to another for me. Back on my normal diet today, although I’ll eat less and minimize my sodium intake. Sodium is everywhere, though, and difficult to escape.
As far as the actual surgery location and affected tendons, they seem to be doing well. Tenderness and sensitivity around the suture site is reduced. I hope to put a shoe on within a few more days.
Hope all of you out there are doing well. Coffee is being swallowed, working its magic through my cells. Here is the music. Cheers
Thursday’s Political Thoughts
Who else had Matt Gaetz would withdraw on their Trump failures bingo card?
Still holding my breath on whether the Senate will stand aside so Trump can use recess appointments for his cabinet members (despite what Alexander Hamilton wrote about it), but I do have that square on my Trump failures bingo card.
What’s on your Trump failures bingo card?
Worth Sharing
Seen on Bluesky:
MeidasTouch @meidastouch.bsky.social
Starting a phony transgender bathroom debate and hiding behind the guise of “protecting women” to distract from your attempts to push through the confirmations of alleged rapists, sex traffickers, and fraudsters at the highest levels of government is peak Republican Party.
The GOP: the Grand Old Phonies.
Thursday’s Theme Music
Mood: Raindamental
A light grey bolt of cloth stretches over our valley. Winds whip trees into wild gesturing. Accumulated moisture glistens on everything. This is Thursday, November 21, 2024.
A bomclone continues its hold on us, closing roads outside of the valley with snow and fallen tres, but we’re okay in our neck. 44 F, light rain, but hey, it feels like 47 F and it’s gonna strike 48 before daylight fades.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) is okay staying in with that weather raging outside but Papi the ginger blade is trying to set a new record. He’s been in and out six times today. I think he’s been inspired by Robert Heinlein’s cat and is looking for the door into summer. As my wife lets Papi in, she asks him, “Are you hungry?” Like asking him, “Are you an orange boi?” Hell yeah, he’s hungry, Papi hollers back. He hasn’t eaten in like fourteen minutes, the last time he left the house.
A moment for mock applause. Gotta hand it to Trump, he’s being proactive. No sense waiting for folks to become part of his administration to get corrupt. He’s gonna start with corrupt individuals and see how corrupt he can be. Like he’s angry at the nation and the concept of freedom and democracy and the public welfare and is out to destroy it via a rich man tantrum. I mean, have you seen the names and records he’s trusting to do his bidding? Hope his voters shrivel with shame and sink into the ruin they’re making of this nation. Yeah, I’m not bitter, angry, or disgusted. History will judge them harshly.
Thinking of summer, The Neurons begin working up summer songs. They finally emerge in the morning mental music stream (Trademark watery) with Superchunk and “This Summer” from 2012. It’s a song I rarely hear except when I’m tuned to satellite FM in the car and on an indie-oriented station. And while it’s about summer as we travel a trough of stoutly autumn weather, the lyrics kind of play into it. To get a little political (moi?), one of the lines go, “We can’t forget what we never knew.” Perfect epitaph for Trump voters IMO.
Get positive and remember your values and dreams. Coffee has entered my systems and is doing its thang. Here’s the music. Cheers
