Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Affloofmation (floofinition) – Positive actions or behavior to reassure an animal and gain their trust.
In use: “Learning how to interact with animals as she grew up with a life full of birds, lizards, cats, dogs, goats, horses, cows, and llamas, Peaches developed a repertoire of affloofmations and became known as ‘The Floof Whisperer’.”
PWF (floofinition) – Floofnet slang for ‘Playing with floof’, shorthand employed to send a message to others that they’re busy playing with a furred, feathered, or scaled friend.
In use: “After adopting a rescue dog from the county shelter, Kristie often found herself texting others, PWF, so much so that her friends started referring to her as KWF – Kristie with floof. That was fine with her. Her new friend was sweet, loving, fun, and smart. What more was needed?”
Moanday is upon us again. That is Moanday as in, “Dear Lord, it’s Monday again.” I understand some people like Mondays. Come back to me and ask after I’ve had coffee.
It’s December 5, 2022. That happens to be my little sister’s birthday. She’s beautiful, intelligent, successful, and highly capable. Things every person should be. Generates suspicions in me about whether I’m related to her, though I was there when Mom brought her home and admired her as she slept. I know her husband, children, grandchildren, sisters, and Mom will all properly fete her.
Don’t you think that should be an expression? “Well, fete me, if I didn’t forget to buy that card while I was out.”
Sorry, lack of coffee is making The Neurons are little freakie deakie this Moanday.
36 F is what my weather station claims it to be. It’s a wet, foggy, gloomy Moanday, something appropriate for the moors. Our high will be 46. The end pieces of sunrise and sun drop are 7:24 and 4:39, AM and PM respectively. All but small, distant football fields of snow are gone from the mountains from what I saw yesterday. Rain is coming, they say. Probably snow a bit in the upper reaches.
Spent some time from being human and reading news to watching the volcano eruption in Hawaii. Being human is a minor theme this AM. Started with the cats. Restless due to weather, they intensely shadowed me this morning, vocally challenging me at every turn. Chatting with them, my refrain became, “Guys, look, I already fed you. I don’t understand what you want. I’m only human. I don’t understand your floofish.”
Paying scant attention, my neural Alexa told The Neurons, “Play Human by The Human League.” The 1986 soft ballad is classic techno pop. Get in a car, close your eyes, and you can be transported to the Reagan years. Of course, I sang the floof version for the cats’ amusement. First, there was, “You’re only human, a pathetic little man.” That’s how they seem to feel about me at times. Later’s version was, “I’m just a kitty, fur and claws, a cat.”
The Neurons are gasping for coffee. I need to end their pain. Here’s the music. Go ahead, drift back in time, if but a few seconds. Cheers
My Dad and I were together. Both younger than RL, we were out hanging out, talking and walking by a wide, busy road.
We ended up at string of used car lots. That pushed us into reminiscing about cars which we’d owned, Porsches, Mercedes, Cadillacs, Chevies, Corvettes, BMWs, and so on.
We came across a red C4 Corvette, a series produced in the 1980s and 90s. The car was on display, hood and doors open. Dad had a blue one of those, so he chatted about it. Somehow, he talked himself into buying it for my older sister, Debby, because he thought she would like it. Well, it was a car and a Vette, and in excellent condition, so she probably would, I agreed, though I didn’t think it a car she’d buy for herself, a grandmother with three children and seven grandchildren.
I met with Debby later and asked if she liked her car. She didn’t know what I was talking about. Thinking that I might be spilling a surprise, I tried not saying anything but finally confessed that I’d been with Dad when he bought her a red Corvette. Then I gave her giving some details about the car. She laughed as I spoke, asking, “A Corvette? Why did he do that?”
I told her, “I don’t know. It was a whim. He thought you’d like it.”
She just laughed.
Dream end.
The next dream found me in a house. The large and luxurious house was mine but not from my RL existence. My wife and I, younger than RL, were home when the power went out. I went downstairs to the garage to check the circuit breakers. As I entered the garage, the power came back on, so I went back up. Then I thought I heard a noise from the garage and went back downstairs. I found some doors open. At that point, the power went off again, but I heard the circuit breakers being thrown. Someone is messing with me, I decided, and called the police.
The police immediately arrived. Angry at that point, I told them what transpired and they looked around. Nothing was found and they left. I then installed an alarm. It immediately went off. I didn’t know if I’d installed it wrong or it was due to an intruder, so I went into the garage to investigate. Someone ran out through the back door when I walked in. I ran over but it was night, they were in black, and I couldn’t see them. Cursing them and muttering about security, I closed and locked the door.
A third dream found me worrying about cats. Outside, in a patchy lawn by an old house, I’d see a kitten and then go try to find it. Most were tabbies but there was also one black kitten. Sometimes I saw them and chased them around. Frustration and irritation joining hands and skipping through me, I said, “Screw this, I give up.” With that, I sat down on a block of white cement. I’d tried, I told myself.
As I sat there, the kittens emerged. Coming to me, they climbed my legs and settled in my lap. Then they looked up and meowed at me, which is where the dream terminated.
The final remembered dream had me at a relative’s house. They were people I didn’t know but some of my family was there. I was a young man in my early twenties, home on leave from the military.
More relatives who I didn’t know arrived. I went downstairs into a small family room. Newcomers followed me down. Male and female, they ranged in ages from around five to seventeen. I don’t know how many were there. Intensely curious about me, they peppered me with questions. Trying to distract and entertain them, I suggested we listen to music. I then showed them a stereo system. I told them, “This is my old system. I replaced it so I brought it here and installed it so that they could use it.” It was the actual system which I now own.
I played a song from Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon album, “Wish You Were Here”. The oldest male told me that they also had a stereo system there and showed it to me, located exactly opposite mine, and I hadn’t seen it. He then played an AC/DC song, “Highway to Hell”. As this played and we talked about music, I realized that there were four stereo systems in the room, which I thought was funny and amusing.
They were still asking me questions, like they were interviewing me. I sprawled out on a sofa and answered. One of the young girls asked if she could lay on me, then did so without me answering. I was uncomfortable with this, shifting my body away from her. She put her head on my chest and said, “I can hear your heartbeat.”
The dream ended.
Overall, it was a busy night of dreams.
It’s an auspicious Sunday morning. Fox Sports viewers are still reeling from an extreme closeup of Michigan’s Coach, Jim Harbaugh, delivered by a ref cam on television yesterday. Oh, the humanity!
December 4th has its hands around us. Mild weather in our valley is putting on airs. 40 F now, we anticipate a high that exceeds (or not) 49 F. Mostly cloudy, with the sun playing peek-a-boo with us, the ground is wet from nocturnal rain, and those clouds are saying, “Seriously, we might let loose with some water again. Don’t laugh. We mean it.”
DIY plans have gone awry. The microwave went out again last week. New parts were ordered. They arrived yesterday. Soon as I picked up that box, I knew the right parts weren’t within. The box weighed about eight pounds, which seems heavy for a door microswitch and a plastic switch holder. Emails were sent. Replies are awaited. The cats are watching the skies for carrier pigeons from customer service.
Other DIY plans are going well as new interior seals are put on the windows. Tiny measures like that make a huge difference. The house feels so much snugger and cozier. Yes, I did procrastinate on getting that done. It was overdue. I blame the cats for that.
With a weather break and the winds dissipated, both cats are out on sentry, one each covering the front and back approaches. News of a local cougar killing a pet cat has us on edge. Previous reports were out but this time, cyclists witnessed the cougar with the cat in mouth. That seems pretty accurate.
The Neurons have “Let It Roll” by Little Feat (1988) pumping through the morning mental music stream. It’s funny that this is the song that ended up there. Yes, funny, ha, ha. I was thinking of my novel in progress, pondering where the muses were going to take me. I feel like I have a blindfold on. They’re standing around me, giggling and smothering their laugher, telling me what to do. My response is, yeah, let it roll. Let’s see how it rolls out. But a number of artists come to mind when the song lyrics ‘let it roll’ go by. Foremost is usually BTO — yeah, Bachman Turner Overdrive for the uninitiated — urging, “Let it roll! Down the highway. Roll. Roll.” I speculate that the weather has The Neurons in a Germany state of mind. I was stationed in Germany for a few years in the late eighties. Weather there was often overcast. Seeing this weather reminded me of those German days. That’s when this Little Feat song came out.
Coffee time! Stay positive and test negative. Mask up as needed. Be smart about it. I know most are beyond weary. I understand. The vulnerable remain vulnerable, though. Sure, that’s their problem, right? Uh, huh. Sure.
Wait, the cats are clamoring for re-entry. Yep, the clouds came through. Light rain falls.
Here’s the tune. Enjoy. Cheers
Yippee. December’s first Saturday has arrived. Per family tradition, I get to eat like a kid all day, play games, and goof off. Not much different from most of my days.
Only four Saturdays remain of 2022. It’s so exciting to watch each Saturday overtake us and unfold like a rare flower. Today is already December 3. The heat is running, the sun is shining, but a cold northy wind is beating us like a drum. It’s 46 F and it feels like 36. Today’s high will be a rousing 51. The winds are expected to dip and the sun has issued promises that sunshine is here for the day. Speaking of the sun, its rise was 7:22 AM. Only a few weeks until the sun’s arrival starts moving back the other day, spreading daylight longer through the day. The sun’s endpoint will be at 4:39 PM. Daylight will fade shortly after.
I was singing to one of my floofmates last night. Papi, the ginger wonder, had an attitude going on. Just like sitting back, surveying the scene, a disdainful observer too cool to be involved. The way he reclined and surveyed prompted both a laugh from me and a proclamation that he was a soul cat. I then improvised lyrics to the song “Soul Man” for his listening delight. He deigned to be delighted.
Taking notice of all this, The Neurons delivered “Soul Man” to the morning mental music stream. The song, written by Isaac Hayes and Dave Porter, was a hit by Sam and Dave in 1967. That’s the song I knew and grew up with. But I must admit, The Blues Brothers version delighted me because of the characters Dan Ackroyd and John Belushi brought to stage in 1978. I’m going with the latter for today’s theme music.
Stay positive and test negative. Enjoy December’s First Friday. I’m gonna start with a hot cup of the black brew known as coffee. Here’s the music. Hope you like it more than Papi. Of course, that may have been my mocking or singing putting the cat off.
Cheers
Visions of heating bills danced through my head. They warned us it was going down to 22 F last night but my system said it only declined to 29 and it’s already surged to 0 C (32 F). A high of 39 F is eagerly anticipated.
Welcome to December 2, 2022.
A hazy shade of winter dominates the blue sky. A smattering of snow on the grasses and trees tell on the season but the streets and walks are clear. It’s a Friday. Sun splashed some amazing merlot and tangerine through the morning medley before the sun cleared the horizon at 7:21. Daylight will have its place until 4:39 this evening, then we’ll likely see another orgy of clouds and color as the sun salutes us and leaves.
Got a little old rock n’ roll in my head, an offering from Bruce and the E Street Band. The song is “Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)” from way back in the early 1970s. I think Der Neurons found it in my cellar memory when I was addressing his ginger lordship, Papi. Papi was expressing a desire to leave the house through the door to go outside. I was telling him that he probably didn’t wanna do that because of cold and snow, but you know cats. So I let him out and back in, once, twice, thrice, as the floofverb says animals should do. I guess Les Neurons picked up on that whole door vibe. I confess to not understanding how The Neurons work. We just live together.
Song starts slow and then takes off. It’s a recording of a live rendition with young musicians. Hope you hear or look up or know the lyrics. Like many Springsteen lyrics of that period, the poet in him has listeners asking, “Wait, what did he say?”
Stay positive and test negative. Coffee is ready to warm my gizzard and infuse energy into my being. Hope your Friday is a wonderful day free of illness and woes. Here is the boss and his band. Cheers
Floofblurb (floofinition) – A short description or comment about animals.
In use: “Social media emerged as the center for people to post photos of animals, especially their pets, often with floofblurbs about the animal’s sweetness, intelligence, humorous antics, or beauty.”
Floofalize (floofinition) – To make animals central in scope or application.
In use: “With more pets being added to households, homes continue to be floofalized with additions such as catios and kennels, and pet rooms with their own flooficated furniture and televisions.”
Hard frost whitens bare ground. It’s 31 F (yeah, you know what that is in C) and sunny. Gorgeous, really, with a preternaturally blue sky. Our backyard’s flowering pear still houses branches full of leaves, but they’ve gone lemony yellow. The sunshine striking its upper reaches really brings the color to life.
It’s Tuesday, the twenty-ninth of November in the common era year 2022. Sunrise came at 7:18 AM. Sunset is planned by the forces of nature to finish daylight at 4:40 PM. In between, the temperature will rise into the forties and it might run. There aren’t any clouds so I have a jaundiced view to that but then again, weather.
I have “Heavy Is the Head” by the Zac Brown Band with the late Chris Cornell filling the morning mental music stream. The 2015 song reminds me of something in the late sixties/early seventies era of classic rock that might have originated with Black Sabbath, without the finer lead guitar Sabbath’s Iommi brought. I didn’t hear HItH much on the radio back in ’15 but heard it on television while I was traveling and stopping at places, which seemed weird. But it stuck. The Neurons brought it up today because I was teasing my number one cat after number two cat took a swipe at him, talking about how hard it is to be number one and rule the house. Heavy is the crown on that furry black and white head, which led to the song.
Stay pos, test neg, etc. Have a most excellent Tuesday, as they say. Time to say hello to a cuppa joe and shift the morning into a higher gear. Here’s the music.
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 