Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofboree (floofinition) – A large, festive gathering of animals.
In use: “After midnight, the housefloofs went outside and hosted a floofboree in the backyard, inviting the local skunks and squirrels, raccoons and bears, mice and rats, along with the other cats and dogs. It was a swell time until the skunks got overly excited and sprayed everyone.”
Sopfloofrific (floofinition) – An animal’s influence on making people sleep.
In use: “His dog and cat found him whenever he sat to read and climbed onto his lap, which became a sopfloofrific prelude to a nap.”
Floofvision (floofinition) – 1. An added layer of telecommunications visible and audible to animals but beyond human comprehension.
In use: “Boo and Oliver enjoy sitting by the television, watching floofvision, which brings them up-to-date infloofmation about animals, new floofnology, and general enterfloofment.”
2. Formally, an organization founded by a woman to end animal abuse.
In use: “Raven tells everyone everywhere, whomever and wherever she meets them, about Floofvision and her goal of a world free of animal abuse. Humans are starting to pay attention, but the animals are beginning to flock toward her as a new Floofsiah.”
Welcome to Satsunmon, the day that feels like three days rolled into one. It does not really feel like Saturday to me. Has more of a Sunday vibe but with low Monday energy.
Today is March 26, 2022. Just five days left to use those coupons that expire on March 31, 2022. Use ’em if you got ’em.
Sunrise was another flat affair, as though the sun didn’t really want to show up. It came at 7:04 AM. The sun’s tail-end experience will be at 7:30 PM. It’s chilly for now, with that sun struggling to come up with watts to warm, 47 F now, but we expect a high of 75 today.
It seemed like both my cats walked around yesterday looking for the one who passed. They considered chairs and corners, favorite resting spots, etc. It really seemed like they were asking themselves, “Where is he? I don’t see him anywhere.” Or maybe they saw him everywhere. I went back and read a post that talked about the cats’ relationships at the time, “The Tale of Two Cats” posted in Juy, 2016. Boo had joined us the previous November, so he wasn’t really with us that long. Nice to see how much better Boo, Tucker, and Papi (aka Meep) were getting along by the end. They remained wary but the growling, hissing, and fighting was pretty much gone.
Had a good laugh over some tweets this AM. My spouse is a big fan of AITA on Reddit. Well, Elle Em did a twist on Twitter, AITA from a feline perspective.
Multiple songs vie for the neurons’ attention from the morning mental music stream. Among these are Rice A Roni jingle, “Brand New Key”, “All These Things That I’ve Done”, “Happy”, and the theme music from “Shaft”. But eventually “Roll With It” by Oasis from 1995 herded the neurons onto one tune.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the shots, you know? Speaking of shots, I think I’ll have a few shots of hot water poured through ground roasted beans. Can you say coffee?
Cheers
I shall miss his morning greetings
Rubbing his head against me
As I sit on the toilet
Or sitting at my feet and providing me his views
As I make my first cup of coffee
His visits with me as I’m pulling weeds and cutting the grass
Answering his call as he requested the door be opened for his egress
And ingress
And egress
And ingress
It won’t be the same
Being able to move without a large black haus pantera
Lying at my feet as I type
I’ll forever see him fleeing for safety
Moving his big body on his tiny feet
Whenever someone knocked on the door
Or people started talking on Zoom
I’ll always feel special
That he chose to spend his time with me
Permitting me to pet his head and scratch his ears
Without him scratching my hand
Letting me feed him bits of my sandwiches
Pieces of my chicken
Or indulging him with tuna
He made it all a challenge
With his fierce and independent manner
A challenge I would accept again and again
To see that sweet black face
Triangular with triangle ears
And black and white whiskers
Looking up at me and saying,
“Meow.”
Today is Wednesday, March 23, 2022. I’m still processing my friend’s death yesterday, Mike. It’s remote and abstract to me at this point, astonishing and bewildering. My neurons follow paths for what it must be like in Ukraine as people lose their friends and loved ones suddenly to gunfire and explosion. That life is so treasured to us, that people’s deaths leave such gaping holes, that we work so hard on medicine and health, exercising and dieting to prevent sickness and death, and then that humans kill one another for bizarre fucking reasons when other avenues of co-existence are available, renders me to sighs and head shaking.
A faded azure sky embraces the sun. Full spring is in effect. Sunrise came at 7:09 AM and sunset will take at 7:26 PM. It’s 56 degrees F right now, on its way to a 68 F high. Should be a lovely day.
My beer group is meeting tonight. Mike was a large part of that. Plans had been made for me to hand off a book that was loaned to me, giving it to Mike because he was visiting with the book’s owner. Now, change.
Meanwhile sick cat steadily declines. Eating is next to impossible for him due to tumors. I have the back door open, and he made his way out to sit in the sunshine on the patio. Papi has made a solid recovery. I had the door open yesterday afternoon, and that boy galloped in and out, tail up, playing hide and seek with me. Tucker is solidly recovered, too, reclaiming his space on the bed by my head last night, talking to me this morning about his food and drink requirements, and eating with gusto.
My cheeky neurons are playing Del Shannon’s “Runaway” from 1961 in the morning mental music stream. I was five when it came out, but it was a big hit and part of the AM rock and roll rotation for years.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax.
A stratus layer mothers the sun, protecting it from our prying eyes. Theoretically, we had sunrise at 7:11 this morning, but few bright rays have slipped past the cloud shield. The temperature is hovering at 46 degrees F as a fine mist drifts and falls, but today’s high is forecast to be 77 F before sunset at 7:25 PM.
Today is Tuesday, March 22, 2022, or 03222022 in the American style.
I was up with cats last night. Another — a different — sick one, as Tucker puked and went lethargic. My wife is sleeping in another bed adjusted for her back issues. Tucker, who sleeps with me 99 percent of the nights, slept with her. I missed my furry boy and his taps on my hands and nose, and deep, throbbing purr. I asked her this morning, how he was. “Oh, he’s fine,” she said. Oh, he ate? “I don’t know.” Did he drink water? “I don’t know.” Did he use the litter box? “I don’t know.” How do you know he’s okay? “He seems okay.” That is not how it works.
Meanwhile, sick cat took Tucker’s absence as an opportunity to cuddle against me. I pet, scratched, and spoke for him for long hours in the night. His ability to eat is diminishing and he’s fading, despite hopes. Of course, I used the time to write in my head. It wasn’t the plan; the writer is always there, and the muses said, “Hey, while you’re not busy doing anything.” They’re very single-minded. My mind shouted, “Eureka,” as some new and surprising vector took shape. Of course, it must be pursued today.
A 1986 Moody Blues song, “Your Wildest Dreams”, settled into the morning mental music stream. The neurons latched onto after a few dreams. Now it’s on loop and must be released into the net so the neurons can go on to other music.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the shots when you can. The neurons are calling for coffee, threatening me with a medley of 1910 Fruitgum Company melodies if I don’t comply. So off I go. Cheers
