3 Floofs Down (floofinition) – Floofmerican grunge floof rock (flock) band formed in Mississippi in 1996. They released five studio albums, with the first five charting well, including two albums which debuted at number one.
In use: “3 Floofs Down’s 2003 song, “Floof Without You”, reached number one in the United States, number two in Poland and Australia, and charted well in several other countries.
Counting Floofs (floofintion) – Formed in 1991 in Floofley, Califloofia, Counting Floofs is an American floof rock (flock) band which has found success in the mainstream and alt music charts.
In use: “The Counting Floofs’ first song to find chart success, “Mr. Floof”, is also their highest charting song to date, achieving number one status in Floofnada and number five in the United Floofs of America.”
Mimi is the neighbor’s beautiful little gray and white cat. She had a close call with a car the other day. Turned out, she’d been hit.
I wrote about her close call in Friday Fragments. I saw Mimi streak away and reported it to the neighbor. I’ve seen cats streak away from accidents only to succumb later.
Such was the case now. Mimi’s back end was injured. She dragged herself into the house and hid. My neighbors searched for her but couldn’t find her. Midnight that night, Mimi made a noise and she was found, along with the extents of her injuries. They rushed her to care.
Mimi could be saved. The price would be high. Her injuries were extensive, and the quality of life and her future would be very uncertain. Grieving at 2:30 AM, the people made the decision they thought best for themselves and their cat.
Coronavirus restrictions were broken as the vet allowed them to say good-bye.
People tell me how skinny I’ve become. Interesting, because I weigh just seven pounds less than two years ago. What I’ve pieced together, based on history and what doctors told me, is that my prostrate gland had become severely enlarged. It blocked my bladder, eventually causing a medical emergency because I couldn’t void myself. My little old one- hundred ml bladder had eleven hundred ml of piss in it, according to the staff when I arrived that morning in the ER. According to my doc when he recounted it later, I was grossly distended. So, no, it wasn’t weight; I was full of piss. Once that was all relieved, and my prostate has shrunk some, my organs are no longer displaced, and no longer have an abdomen that sticks out like a car bumper.
You can read about my 2019 troubles in Peckerville here.
My prostate/bladder experience reaffirmed the need to not look at everyone through the same lenses. They may look overweight, but it could be something else completely.
I’m also looking at my food differently. I used to consider sugars, fat, and content whenever I made a food selection. We’ve moved sharply toward organic and natural food in the past fifteen years. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure (hypertension) last year. I’m on meds for it. I now check sodium content in food and keep it down. I’m staggered by how much sodium is used in modern processed food. It’s eye opening, and not in a good way. The Trader Joe’s foods that I used to enjoy are completely unacceptable.
Speaking of looking at things differently, the neighbor’s cat was almost done in by a car the other day, right before my eyes. Mimi, a gorgeous little grey and white kitty, was sitting on the curb across the street. A pedestrian was chatting with her. He later said, though, another cat was distracting Mimi. A car came rushing up the street. Mimi decided then to cross.
Cats don’t view the world as we do. They have a harder time discerning a car forty feet away, traveling at a speed of thirty miles per hour, coming at them.
The car brakes to a halt with a sharp screech of tires. Mimi appears safe. She streaks home. All are concerned. I knock on the neighbor’s door and tell her what happened and where Mimi went. I haven’t seen Mimi or neighbor since. It worries me, but I think if something bad happened, my neighbor would come and tell me. That’s how she is.
We were out shopping Tuesday. Had to renew the car registration in Medford, so we thought we’d shop and gas up the car at the same time. All went well but I realized, I don’t really miss people during this pandemic/stay-at-home era. I miss my routines. Yes, I miss having beers with friends or going dancing, and traveling, but it’s not about missing the people as much as doing things other than what I’m doing. I’ve always known I’m not a social person. I don’t know how much of this to assign to what, personality wise. In other words, how much is due to my genetic makeup, and how much of it is a socialization thingy?
We’re seriously processing moving out of state, probably heading east. Well, come on, we live in Oregon; we can’t go south to California. Going north to Washington has been addressed, but it doesn’t seem feasible.
Looking at house photos online to fill in an idea of what housing would be like, I’m fascinated by the difference in home décor between the Pacific northwest, and Ohio/Pennsylvania, where we’re looking. We’ve always been aware of the differences in clothing fashion between different parts of the country. There are also usually differences attributable to age and economic straits. And, visiting family, yes, I’ve also noticed it when I visit their homes. So much viewing, I suppose, has driven the disparity more deeply into me.
The other thing is about how housing styles have changed through the decades. Back in the forties, fifties, and sixties, (I don’t know about other decades, because I don’t see houses from other times), homes seemed to mostly form follow function. Small box houses. Little character is evidenced outside. The yards are large, the rooms are small, especially bathrooms.
Later, though, the houses grow more and more about exterior style. While the boxes were efficient but less attractive, the newer houses become more inefficient in their interiors, with lots of wasted space or strange spaces. Yards are smaller, though all of the yards on the listings I check are larger than the yards out here. I have several friends who are retired or practicing architects. I’d love to talk to them about evolving house designs. One was on the forefront of tiny houses and sustainable living, so I really want to get her take.
We have three firm rules for our new place, wherever we settle. One, no mortgages. Paying in cash limits our choices (we don’t want to sink all of our cash into a house, right?), but we don’t want a mortgage. Two, no HOAs. They’ve burned us twice; never again. I think they’re one of the more ridiculous modern contrivances. Three, we need a little space. We just don’t like living on top of other people. When we first move back, we will be renting, of course. We’ve done this before. Although we haven’t moved in fourteen years, I was in the military for twenty years, as was my father before me. I’ve moved a lot during my lifetime.
I’m pretty convinced we need to move. Not looking forward to it, but… But years of smoky summers and droughts, water restrictions, and wildfires have worn us down. Sad, because Ashland, Oregon, and the region are beautiful and wonderful in multiple ways. The negatives, though, have just added up. Given the trends of the previous ten years and the forecasts and models, we only see it getting worse.
Have a good day. Wear your masks, please. Be safe. Cheers
Floofbolic(floofinition) – Disorganization or chaos caused chiefly by animals, especially houspets. Related: Shambolic
In use: “Between floofs arising and demanding food when the sky is blacker than ink, and skunks, squirrels, and mice attempting to make his house their home, Ron felt like his life was a floofbolic existence.”
Today’s song is an earworm. The infection came from a television show.
But the song, “I Knew You Were Trouble” by Taylor Swift (2012) fits if you’re a cat owner. (Owner is used as a convenience; I don’t own them – they own me.) It’s easy to watch one cat walk in, eyeing another as the other scopes them out, and think of this song. The cats don’t telegraph their intentions to me, but to one another, many things are being said. But I think, this looks like trouble. Then comes the chorus, “Trouble, trouble, trouble.”
Then the cats start talking to one another. Yeah, don’t tell me that cats meow to humans and not one another. These cats talk to one another. I hear them muttering as I half-awaken, “Get away from me. If you don’t get away from me, I’m telling the ape man.” Maybe it’s all just theater for me.
It’s the second time that I’ve used this song. The previous time was in an incoherent post about Monday back in 2019. I don’t think I’d had any coffee when I wrote it, because it’s all over the place. It also associates this song with cats.
Floofinar (floofinition) – A group of advanced animals studying under a mentor with each doing original research and all exchanging results through reports, discussions, and flooflepathy.
In use: “When the novel coronavirus pandemic began spreading among humans in 2020, the Floof Exchange established a series of floofinars to understand the problem so they could help humans survive and recover.”
2. A meeting for giving and discussing information about animals, especially housepets.
In use: “As pets live longer, more floofinary hospitals and floof stores are conducting floofinars to help owners understand their mature pets’ needs.”
Floofbatical(floofinition) – 1. An animal’s break or change from a normal routine.
In use: “After raising her own litter, then a litter of orphaned kittens, then an orphaned puppy, Mamacita felt she deserved a floofbatical.”
2. A human’s break from taking care of, attending, or being with animals.
In use: “Both beloved dogs died of cancer in the space of three months, each after a short fight against the cancer’s growth. Izzy decided to take a floofbatical before bringing another pet into her life. Of course, she’d overlooked floofma, which delivered a new rescue into her life after just three days.”