Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
The moment was here: time to write. There was so much to do with storylines, plot points, and character development, his thoughts were like a clowder of kittens chasing one another and wrestling while also playing with a litter of puppies. Organization was required. Discipline. Focus. Direction. Yes, yes, yes. And, yes.
But first, more coffee.
He wondered if it was ‘just him’. He didn’t really become annoyed, but it was a minor irritation when another person insisted that he make a call on the household’s behalf and then hovered nearby, eavesdropping, inserting themselves into the conversation by throwing out comments even though they have no idea what’s being said on the other end, throwing the conversation’s rhythm off. If they wanted to talk, why’d they give him the phone and asked him to call?
Yes, it was probably just him who found this rude and intrusive. It often was ‘just him’.
Today is Sat-er-day, the day you get when someone asks, “What day is it,” and you begin to reply, “Sat-” and your brain yells, “Wait,” so you give a verbal pause, “er”, while the brain quickly reviews the answer — is it Saturday? — and then tells you, “Go ahead.”
It’s August 6, 2022, a lovely morning here in southern Oregon. The moon was silver and clear last night vice the pumpkin hues worn throughout the week’s first days, hues granted by fire particulates. Fires still rage but none closer than twenty to thirty miles. A shifting wind has dropped our AQI into small, healthy numbers. You feel for the others, of course. One person’s win is another’s loss. Wish it wasn’t so. The biggest threat is the closest conflagration, the McKinney fire, sixty thousand acres, ninety homes destroyed, thirty percent contained, just over the border. It’s rugged land.
It’s 20 C at the moment but will climb to 94 F before the day is done. Sunrise was an old-fashioned offering of pale silver light gracefully acquiring strength before turning white gold and warm. Started about 6:09 AM. Sunlight will rule until the setting commences at 8:24 this evening. Clouds? None to speak of.
I have “Stumblin’ In” by Suzi Quatro and Chris Norman playing in Sat-er-day’s morning mental music stream. Came about when The Neurons caught my wife stumbling. As the more rational brain rushed help to her and asked if she’s okay (and she was, it was a little trip over a hair on the floor or something), The Neurons began playing the 1979 song.
Alright, coffee is due, and then other activities will be engaged. Stay positive, test negative, and take care of thy self and thy loved ones and friends, and even those who aren’t loved ones or friends but need help, yeah? Let’s be careful out there as Sarge used to say on Hill Street Blues. Here’s the music.
Cheers
Yep. And sometimes, it’s a little crazy in here.
Infloofgration (floofinition) – The act, instance, or process or adding an animal to an environment.
In use: “Proper infloofgration to a household when a new floof comes into someone’s life is critical. The established animals and newcomer both need time and space to adjust to the situation’s new parameters.”
Today is Freeday, August 5, 2022. Today you have the right to declare yourself symbolically free. Sounds like a waste but when you do so, using whatever styles desired short of hurting and killing other beings, it’s invigorating, liberating, stimulating, and intoxicating.
Weather is a very comfortable hazy and cool 72 F after an overnight low of 14 C. Highs of 94 F are expected. Freeday opened with a smooth and deliberate sunrise at 6:08 AM. Daylight hours will continue until the sun ‘drop’ at 8:25 this evening. All times are Pacific.
AQI is good. More fires have started, some have been partially contained, others have been extinguished.
Watched my cat, the ginger prince, study a large raccoon using the top of the back fence as a freeway about six thirty this morning. Meanwhile, as that went on, I tracked a skunk going around the yard. The skunk stayed to the perimeter, going through the leaves and making a lot of noise about it. Papi paid no mind to it. Once the Raccoon departed, Papi hopped up onto his patio condo – guess that’d be a pando – and went to sleep. What did fascinate me about the skunk was that a jay flew from tree to tree, spying on the skunk, never making a sound.
The Neurons had several Beach Boys and Beatles song skirmishing in the morning mental music stream. I called up Kings of Leon with “Sex on Fire” from 2008. The Neurons asked, “Why that song?” Tables turned, I replied, “Why not,” and laughed. It’s because I like the sonic influences, though, innit?
The coffee has commenced issuing its wake-up fragrance. I’m in the mood to have a cup. Stay positive test negative, etc. Here’s the music. Cheers
Centrifloofetal (floofinition) – Moving or tending to move toward a center which is focused on animals.
In use: “More homes are becoming centrifloofetal as catios and enclosed patios and yards are added to let pets enjoy the outdoors in a safe manner.”
Michael Seidel, writer 