Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
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.”
Heard a loud crash reverberate through the night last night. Shook the windows and threw me out of my chair. Investigation revealed that Wednesday, August 3, 2022, had arrived.
Sunrise was at 6:06 this morning, a sketching of faint pastels relieving night’s fading grays. Our temperature pumped up to 21 C from a start of 65 F, with a high of 97 F in sight for today. Skies are clear except for charcoal scratchings brought on by smoke. The McKinney Fire still burns, still less than one percent contained, unlined, but rain slowed its spread. Other fires have sprung up and are being dealt with. We were fortunate that with all the lightning strikes of the last 24 hours, we were spared, knock on wood. Sunset was a bold, lingering red splash yesterday and I think we’ll have the same today at 8:28 PM.
I was watching my ginger sweetness do a dash. He’s a cat who loves to dash about doing good. As I teased him, “Why are you running from place to place,” The Neurons said, “Oh, we know this song.” That’s how I came to have “Saving Grace” by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (2006) in the morning mental music stream. I enjoy the song’s purer rock sensibilities, which is something I think that Petty always brought to his music. His was a simple approach.
Stay positive, try to be cheerful, test negative, have a nip of coffee. Don’t mind if I do. Here’s the music with the late Petty recorded live. Cheers
Hoochie Floof (floofinition) – An animal who is free from anxiety and worry, or who acts in such a manner.
In use: “Although born prematurely in the Cincinnati Zoo, Fiona the hippo seemed like a hoochie floof as she navigated her first actions in the public eye, drawing millions of clicks and inspiring books.”
In the game of months, August is a powerful force but one-dimensional. Her gifts aren’t subtle.
Tuesday, August 2, 2022, greets you with a warm smile. But what will happen next? A storm with thunder, lightning, and maybe rain? Or a liberal dose of high heat?
She gave us hours of lightening and minutes of thunder last night. The lightning show kicked off before eleven PM, well after sunset at 8:33 PM. Lightning continued until almost three AM. For a period, it was flicker one two three flicker one two three flicker one two three. Thunder muttered once in a while about not wanting to be there and then unleashed a significant boom as if to say, “Fine. Here. Satisfied?” There may have been rain but evidence of it was cleaned up by sunrise at 6:03 AM. The net was knocked out, though.
The cats dealt with it in their own ways. Papi, who loves the outdoors, came in before I was aware that storms were upon us. Tucker, who is blase, shrugged, found a porch spot, and went to sleep.
Temps today are cooler. It’s 22 C now and the high will be 92 F. We may have more thunderstorms later. Winds shifted yesterday so we’re not getting smoked out. Our largest threat, the McKinney Fire south of us, received rain, higher humidity, and cloud cover, all which helped fighting the fire.
With all that smoke in the air for the last several songs, The Neurons plied the morning mental music stream. You know many of the usuals: think of smoke and it was probably heard. But stealing from The Neuron’s m.o., I said, the key word is smell, and then went off on Johnny Winter and the old Bobby Bland song, “I Smell Trouble”. I was a Winter fan starting with Egar and then learning of Johnny. As I became more interested in the blues in the late 1970s and early 1980s, I found some great videos from Montreux. Sadly, those videos can’t be shared. So, here is instead “Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo”.
Stay positive, test negative, and take precautions as needed. I believe it is now coffee time. The Neurons agree. Here’s the music. Have a better one. Cheers
Solarfloof (floofinition) – Another expression for a sunfloof.
In use: “Animals who enjoy lazing, lounging, or sleeping in pools of sunshine, who move with the sun across spaces, or sit with their face to the sun are often called sunfloofs or solarfloofs.”
Related: Sunfloof; heliosfloof
The Neurons stuck “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?” by Chicago into the morning mental music stream. I think the group may have been the Chicago Transit Authority when the song was recorded. It’s from 1970, when I was fourteen, instilling thoughts about what year it is and how old I am. The song was delivered when I looked to my wrist to check my Fitbit for the time. ‘Lo, it wasn’t there. Apparently, the FB faked me into believing all was well. Then its symptoms returned. I charged it and charged it again but had to remove it from my wrist because it was going off every three seconds — notification — which becomes v — notification — intrusive to m — notification — processes.
Yes, the Fitbit is no more. I thought about searching for DIY repairs. Had done that tentatively. Maybe later. Maybe I’ll purchase a new one. I don’t know. It’s too early to talk about replacing it. Plus, there’s the irritating issue of how to dispose of this technology piece without contributing to further environmental damage. Yes, it’s small, but it all adds up.
Sunday, July 31, 2022, finds us shrouded by smoke, sent to us by the McKinney fire a few miles away on the California and Oregon border. Truly nasty smell. You can’t breathe it, so keep the pets in and close up everything. Mask up when you’re outside or suffer the consequences.
The cats were very cool about being kept in. When I responded to their request to go outside with an explanation about what was going on with the heat and smoke, they replied, “Oh, that is very distressing to hear. Thank you for your concerns about our health, Michael. We appreciate it.” Then they groomed themselves and went to sleep.
What do you think we should call that fairy tale? Because that’s what that story was.
No, the cats took being kept inside like Mel Gibson screaming for freedom, constantly and persistently, hour after hour. OMG. The floof people insisted that they’re free animals, meant to roam the outdoors except for eating, having bowel movements, drinking water, and snuggling with humans. Oh, and playing with toys. Oh, yeah and catnip — mustn’t forget catnip — and looking out the window, observing people like a spies following troop movements.
Today’s sunrise was at 6:03 AM and sunset is at 8:31 PM. It’s presently 26 C outside. The high will ‘only’ be 99 F, which is much closer to our usual average. It’s supposed to cool for the rest of the week, dropping to 90 at one point. Of course, the hot weather has generated thunderstorms galore, adding to the wildfire threat, given the looonnnggg drought and the dried-out land that we’re enduring.
Stay positive and test negative and take care of yourself and your people and animals. I’ll try to do the same. Coffee? Yes, stat. Enjoy the music. Cheers
Just after sunrise at 6:02 AM, the sun began clearing the mountains and threw unmistakable blood-orange light through the windows. Smoke hazes and clots the air. Wildfires are burning somewhere. We can smell it. Our AQI has jumped to 90 around our part of town, 117 downtown, two miles away. Either the fire is nearby, or the winds and terrains are lifting and channeling it in our direction.
Good morning! Today is Saturday, July 30, 2022. One more day and then July is history. On to August.
Yesterday reached 112 F at our house. That was my home weather station’s reading. The net claimed 109. Alexa agreed. At 8:30 AM, it’s 81 F. The humidity has gone up. It’s only 39% but it feels heavier. Today’s high is expected to reach 106 F before sunset @ 8:32 this evening. The overnight low was 75 F last night.
That overnight low staying so high hurt. We kept waiting for the air to cool down outside so we could open doors and windows. It finally dropped below 90 at 11 PM. Yes, some relief. Then a skunk struck. Maybe two. The house was re-sealed for an hour while the winds scrubbed the odor away.
The heat affected our big black and white cat, Tucker. He’s older, and older cats struggle to deal with extreme heat. I brought him in, dampened a washcloth with cold water, and rubbed him down a few times. He really enjoyed it and is quite energetic this morning, with a strong appetite. Now, he’s resting by my right hand, providing editorial guidance. Papi, of course, is all, “It’s cool. I’m good.” I keep an eye on him. He appears to be telling the truth.
The Neurons are playing “Lovesong” by The Cure in the morning mental music stream. They’d started with “Friday I’m In Love” and then segued into “Just Like Heaven” before launching “Lovesong”. I asked them, “What’s with the medley? What do you know that I don’t?” They, sipping their espressos, snickered and replied, “Ho, ho, a lot.”
“Lovesong” came out in 1989. I was still in the military, in Germany, then, and found I really enjoyed the song’s moodiness. Hope you enjoy it on this July Saturday, 2022.
Stay positive, test negative, and take care of yourself, yeah? Sure. Back to reading. Back to writing. Back to a cup of coffee. Then, things to do. It’s Saturday, you know. Cheers
Floofnimical (floofinition) – An animal who seems hostile or malevolent.
In use: “Many animals, when first encountering humans, seem floofnimical — especially if sick or injued — but people find a steady, patient diet of soft words, healthy food, and some space for the animal to relax often causes a one eighty in the animal.”
Three AM?
An insistence buzzing breaks my sleepwall. As consciousness is dragged forward, so comes awareness that this noise is arriving from the Fitbit on my wrist. Yes, I’m one of those who sleep with a bit on my wrist. Use it to wake up, check time, a quick splash of illumination when necessary, and such matters. But why at whatever broiling dark thirty hour was it going off?
Don’t know. Checked the digitalware and found it cycling through its functions. Perhaps it’d gone crazy from heat or being with me. It’s a Charge 2, an old device that’s not even supported any longer. I’ve worn the bugger for years, going through fasteners and bands.
A smart person would have plucked that sucker off their wrist and gone back to sleep. But I ignored it, leaving it on my wrist, as it came up and buzzed every three seconds, announcing, “Notification” like it was telling me nukes were inbound or fire was consuming the house. Eventually, no surprise, all those notifications sucked the life right out of it. It was totally dead when Tucker awoke me for Sixes, his affectionate term for a six AM feeding. He was meowing, “Get up, get up, time for sixes.” I put the FB on a charger. My wife started her day shortly later. I told her about the Fitbit and asked her to wake me when she left for her exercise class because I was going back to bed.
“It’s probably dead,” she said. “You probably need a new one. It is old.” Then she promised to wake me.
The final exchange left me wondering about electronic lifespans among devices and their ratio compared to human years. It probably varies to some degree between, say, microwave ovens and iPhones. I decided, without real reason except how often and quickly our tech marvels expire, that one human year equals ten digital years. Your ten-year-old electronic device is 100 in digital years. JMO.
When I checked on the Fitbit an hour later, it was fully charged and alive. My dashboard showed no data lost except for about two dark hours.
All’s well, then, though, looking at it, I could use a new band. This one looks fifty years old. Makes sense. I bought it four years ago.
Michael Seidel, writer 