Science fiction, fantasy, and mystery writer. Singer (sorry, no shows) & nudist (in my home). Beer, cat, cheese, coffee, pie and wine friend. Left IBM and Silicon Valley for the southern Oregon life but I miss the ocean. We're too far inland. Gotta move.
It was hot, dry, and clear. I was on a broad and empty plain. Two riders on horseback galloped toward me. I watched, trying to understand, who are they? Nothing auspicious about them, they resembled cowboys out of a revisionist western. They were approaching at slightly different vectors, dust pluming out behind them. I realized with some slowness, hey, they have ropes. Hey, they’re going to rope me.
Out in the open, nowhere to go, I thought that I’d run toward them, separating the space. Yeah, that didn’t work. They lassoed me. I awoke with a start, heavily sweating, struggling against the ropes. Took several seconds to understand that I’d been dreaming — or maybe experiencing another reality.
His nephew is a charismatic, good-looking guy. College grad, well-built, wonderful smile, intelligent. It was surprising to learn that he met his new girlfriend through Bumble, because she was also a wonderful person and successful. Both said, Yep, so hard to meet people, I decided to try online dating.
Online dating used to be a joke. Looks like it’s becoming a new norm.
Floofjee (floofinition) – Floofhop slang for a humble animal who is part of a luxurious lifestyle, derived originally from the French word, bourgeoisie.
In use: “Floofs can’t always effectively predict how a relationship with a human will work out and become an unwitting floofjee, such as the cats who lived with Freddie Mercury, or Chelsea Clinton and her floofjee, Socks.”
I was surprised to discover today is Friday. It’s also September 16, 2022. The month is storming through. It’ll soon be another memory, haphazardly stacked alongside my other memories. “Do you remember…?” The question begins the conversation. I hear it reverberating from the future. “Do you remember?” A little mental scratching follows. Pieces are put together and then answer comes, “Yes, I remember.” Then each contributes details. Whether it’s all accurate or real, well, that’s for another philosopher to address.
Sunrise’s stealthy crawl began at 7:01 AM. Temperatures continue along a short spectrum of low sixties to mid-seventies. Pittsburgh’s sunset will be at 7:31. The daily slice of sunshine gets shaved a little more every day.
I spent thirty minutes outside today, on the porch in sunshine, drinking coffee. Wonderful to have a full and warm sun as a companion. My body drank in that vitamin D. While out there, I reflected that my mental image of myself remains as a man thirty years younger, or more. I wondered, do our self-images get created and captured when we first visit a place? Is that how we’ll always see ourselves in conjunction with a specific place?
I remember once when I was sixteen, with Dad, shoe shopping. Dad was flirting with a young female sales assistant. It seemed clear to me the woman was embarrassed. I found it all cringeworthy. But Dad didn’t see and hear himself as we saw him that day. Reality is such a tasty and beautiful variable, isn’t it?
For music, “A Horse With No Name” by Americ in the morning mental music stream. I started singing it to myself, shifting lyrics to, “It felt good to be out in the sun.” I took it past there but you don’t need those deets. Make up your own.
Stay positive and test negative, and do what you can with the day. As the floofs say, carpe diem. Lunch is calling, I think. Here’s the music. Cheers
Floofinent Domain(floofintion) – Power of an animal to take over a space, area, or process.
In use: “Keyboards, laptops, and office chairs were usually identified as floofinent domain, but Billy the Cat, who didn’t like vacuuming, took up station on the machine via floofinent domain, swatting at anyone trying to move it.”
He has a rhythm established to deal with his illness. About every seven minutes, he gets up and pees. Then he washes his hands, followed by his face, dousing his eyes with water. Returning to his bedsit, he drinks half a glass of water and refills it, and then blows his nose.
There’s method underlying the madness. It’s all a matter of feeling better and getting better.
I was at a rocky coast.Seemed basalt, reminding me of the central Oregon coast I recently visited around Yachats. Lots of huge rocks worn into curves, gullies, and humps by constant wave action.
Waves would crash on the beach behind me, sending streams of water up the through rocky gaps. The slopes made walking treacherous. I worried about sliding down in the water and also about getting smacked down by waves.
A couple – man and woman – were following me. They weren’t chasing me or anything, just going in the same direction. As I went through, I saw a short window set into the rock. The frame was yellow but the window itself was green. It was short but wide. I jumped up, thinking I’d hold onto the frame and peer through. When I grabbed the frame, it came right out of the rock. The place where it was set closed with rock. I put the window on the rock and went on. Looking back, I saw the couple behind me putting the window back into the rock. I wondered how they did that.
Continuing on, I worried that high tide was coming in. Concerns about becoming trapped rising, I moved on with more urgency as the rock walls became steeper. Studying the waters and their patterns, I realized that the tide was going out. Yet, when I turned to leave the area, waves rushed in. The walls were steep. I was forced to scramble but made it after some arduous climbing and jumping. Getting out of there, I looked back and saw the large basalt rocks shrank, becoming much smaller and flatter.
