Floofstone(floofinition)1. A significant point in a relationship with an animal, especially a pet. Origins: 2002, United States, Internet.
In Use: “Many people who help young kittens and cats face a fierce, growling, spitting adversary, and obtaining the animal’s trust is frequently a major floofstone.”
In Use: “A woman spent six months gaining barn cats’ trust, and when they finally came into her house, it was a major floofstone.”
2. Floofstones – an animated carton about a group of prehistoric domestic animals.
In Use: “Many people came to enjoy and even love The Floofstones, thanks greatly to the writers’ deft skills lampooning modern culture in the U.S.”
We’ve clocked into Friedaz, February 7, 2024. Snowfall greeted me when I checked the weather. A couple more inches had been added during night’s rule. Now 30 F, more was piling up.
Or was it? The temperature crept up to 31. 32. 32.3. 32.4.
Papi the ginger blade, aka, ginger butt, had a vet appointment. 10 AM. I’d made it three weeks ago. He was suffering fur loss, ravenous appetite and some weight loss. Hyperactive thyroid was suspected by us. We’d seen the same in Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah). In fact, based on that, we’d started sharing Tucker’s medicine with Papi. Stopped it on Monday so we could get it out of his system and see the test results.
After strapping chains onto the tires and putting a complaining Papi into a kennel, I made the drive under heavy snowfall.
Turned out that chains were only needed for our driveway and street. The city’s main roads were plowed. As we traveled west and north, the temperature rose. Snow became rain. Precipitation ceased by the time we reached the vet.
That’s okay. Little inconvenienced. Important thing is to get Papi checked and healthy. Yeah, blood work shows hyperactive thyroid. Five hundred clams later, she prescribed the same med that Tucker is getting. Wants to check him in a month.
BTW, I researched why we call money ‘clams’. Turns out that it’s an old joke, based on settlers observing natives using clams for cash. Actually, I made that up. Figure that in this era of fake news, what’s a little more?
I have a 1974 Procol Harum song, “Pandora’s Box”, in the morning mental music stream. Procol Harum often brought interesting music to the scene. This is one I knew from their albums but I don’t believe I ever heard it played on the radio. Funny enough, Aerosmith had a song with the same title in the year before. That caused some confusion among some of us. The two songs sound nothing at all alike, with vastly different intentions presented by the lyrics. I later bet a friend about who performed the song, cleverly inserting the year as part of the bet. I won but he accused me of being underhanded and taking advantage of him. Guilty! But the bet was just a beer, come on. It was at the NCO club and was five dollars for a pitcher. Of course, it was American lager…Miller Lite, I think.
Coffee has resuscitated my energy levels again. Time to get on the day and ride. Hope your day fills your needs.
Hey, look, the snow has stopped and the sun is out.
By the way, I thought I’d utilize the original spelling used today, Friedaz. In doing research, I learned that ‘day’ was actually ‘daz’ almost universally until it became Anglicized. And the prefix, Fri, was originally Frig or Frigga, after a Nordic Goddess. Those rebelling against Nordic influence because they were chaffing from looting done during Viking raids in Europe, changed it to Frie. That spelling upset Christians, as Frigga day or Frieday was a day of fasting. People thought that calling it Friedaz gave them permission to eat fried food. Hence, they started eating fried fish on Friedaz, giving rise to the Catholic rule of eating fish on Friday. The spelling was changed to try to stop people from eating fried foods on Friedaz, but it had became too embedded. Even so, a last ditch attempt was made by religious authorities: they changed the spelling to Friday. And that’s why we have that spelling.
Naw, I made that up, too. Blame the coffee. It’s always forcing me to write and say crazy things.
Floofcode(floofinition) – 1. An agreement for behavior and cooperation between floofs or between humans and a floof or floofs.
In Use: “According to the floofcode, if Lucy fell asleep on Bob, Bob would stay motionless and not disturb his fur friend until the floof awoke of their own accord.”
In Use: “Although Sam would swat Kay to warn her, adhering to the floofcode, he never employed his claws.”
2. Method of communicating for humans with animals, or the converse.
In Use: “Rosa and her smart little puppy’s floofcode included her saying, “Beep beep,” meant he needed to move out her path or her chair.”
In Use: “Jade, rumored to be the world’s smartest cat, developed her own floofcode to deal with Brenda. Knocking things off the dresser at two AM meant she wanted out; throwing kitty litter out of her box onto the floor meant she was upset.”
The sixth day of February has boarded our minds in the year of 2025 CE, a Thursdaz. Crazy frog — our home’s expression for freezing fog, based on a mondetext — has stolen the sunlight, gifting us twilight colors of, gray, white, and black. No snow falling but ‘they’ are warning us that more is on the way. It’s 32 F and greater warmth isn’t anticipated. Snow might be on the way. Or rain.
The primary roads have been plowed here but get off them and yer on yer own. Sidewalks on not cleared, so people must walk on the streets. Everyone gives pedestrians on the roads wide passage but given the environment, I imagine people walking worry with every step about someone losing control of their vehicle.
Weather caused cancellation of my first two lymphedema massage therapy sessions. Another one is scheduled for tomorrow. Also have an appointment for Papi the ginger blade, aka butter butt, Meep, and butter booger, to see what’s going on about his fur shedding.
The Ban Man is at it. Trump bans with a petulant thump. “Ban transsexuals in women’s sports.” Thump. “If I can’t have fun and play sports, neither can they.” “Ban DEI. I’m a rich white guy, born into a wealthy white household. I don’t understand how that was an advantage over others.” Thump. “Ban it all, everything that isn’t me.” Thump.
Of course, the craziness of the first term is still flowering. ‘The U.S. will take over Gaza. Move the Palestinians out.’ What? Friggin’ nuts. Then his ‘team’ scrambles to make it sound sane, plausible, and supported by everyone, and then Trump realizes how nuts he sounded and tries to change what he said. Brother.
It was a busy morning. Friend called to ask advice about his ailing cat. Another called for help with his recalcitrant computer. And, caught up with Mom drama via texts with Mom and a sis. Mom fell again. She refuses assistance and she’s been at war with her live-in boyfriend for months. She’s 89 and he’s 94. I have never witnessed him be anything but polite and nice to her but she declares him mean. My siblings and I have a lifetime of Mom so her claims draw leeriness as a first response. It’s unfortunate but she’s been married multiple times and has had several boyfriends, and drama is her drug. She makes everything contentious with everyone. It’s a sigh-inducing relationship with her.
With that gray-tinged white world staring back at us, it’s no surprise that The Neurons pulled a Cream song, “White Room”, into the morning mental music stream. It’s a Cream favorite o’ mine. A poet, Pete Brown, was responsible for the lyrics, which strike many as enigmatic. I think iyhat pushes me to look inside myself.
My favorite part is this stanza, followed by the chorus.
I like the way the stanza is belted out, angry, defiant, challenging, before the softly resigned introspection presented by the chorus.
Then, too, there are three phenomenal rock performers demonstrating their craft with bass guitar, lead guitar, and drums. Awesome.
Coffee and I introduced ourselves to one another again and I’m indulging in more caffeine-infused dark goodness. Hope your day offers some escape from the world’s woes and some satisfaction to your plans. Cheers
It’s a snow day. We could do with a little snow in Ashlandia but no, why do a little when there’s a lot available?
It’s Munda, Feb. 3, 2025. Thick snow is falling and accumulating, dissing visibility. We have a few inches around our house. But the temperature is hovering right at 32 F here. ‘They’ tell us it will climb to 39 F. What will that do to the snow? Well the traffic cameras tell the story. The storm is coming from the south and east. West and north, there’s less impact. We have variable conditions all around us and it’ll stay like that until tonight, when freezing temperatures take over. Everyone who deals with snow, rain, and freezing overnight temperatures know that outcome.
As for sunshine — what sunshine? Clouds? They’re not visible for the snow. As far as we know, the sky is falling in as small white flakes.
The cats have taken well to the snow. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) has little interest in going out unless the sun is bright, full, and warm. And he’s grown accustomed to this season not being so. Papi, though, always challenges us about being let out. We let him out twice. Second time found him sitting on the porch, watching the snow. He was back in after three minutes. Both then retired to the living room, where the fireplace is going and the blower is kicking warm air across the room.
On to the big news.Beyoncé wins album of the year Grammy. Okay, it was a country album, but still, big accomplishment, right? Big news to fill the weekend gulf when Musk, acting on Trump’s orders, illegally took over computer systems with unvetted people without security clearances or actual positions with the government.
Why, that ol’ Trump. He sure knows how to give the people what they want! They didn’t want all that AID stuff. NO! If they’d wanted that, they would have elected people to Congress to represent them. Then, those people in Congress would have passed an act creating and funding that function.
Which all did happen. The U.S. Agency for International Development was formed in 1961. Congress directs it what to do and provides its funding. As part of the Executive branch the agency then does that. That’s how it’s supposed to work. It’s all part of the checks and balances built into our government’s processes and functions. One man cannot simply say stop.
But he did because Trump gives less than a morning bowel movement about laws and Congress. The GOP is already in his pocket. The Supreme Court ruled that anything he does as POTUS is legal. Or that’s how Trump takes it.
He should be impeached. We know that won’t happen with the GOP in charge. We’ve been down this road before. Few of them have the spine to stand up to Trump. But, hey, the people elected them, too, right?
And this is how the system breaks. This is the fallout of the system coming apart.
I mentioned the Grammy Award because my wife was spitting out curses like a drunken sailor this weekend as she looked at the news. “Look at this news coverage,” I will summarize her as saying, “no wonder this country is going to shit.” Yes, as many of us have noticed, we have infotainment more than news these days. Here’s thirty seconds about Trump, Musk, and the government, and twenty minutes on the Grammies, and a minute on the weather, and five minutes on the NFL Pro Bowl. Now on to sports!
Today, The Neurons have installed “Drive” by R.E.M. in my morning mental music stream. The 1991 song came up because as I thought about all the crap Trump and his minions did this weekend, The Neurons said, “Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.”
Because essentially, the clock is running on inflation, the stock market, the U.S. and economy, after Trump’s moves. And we have judges ruling on his freeze order. And…yes, it’s a list, a list of crimes and transgressions. A list of activity against history, law, and common sense. So…tick. Tock. As the ride commences, we wait for the fallout.
The snow still falls. I’m off to do my writing and then off to a medical appointment. Be safe, and be strong, wherever you are, and whatever you’re doing. Cheers
And on the last day of January of 2025, rain fell on Ashlandia.
Yes, it’s Frieda, January 31, 2025, and rain is peppering Ashlandia. 41 F outside, ‘they’ inform us that it’ll edge close to 50 F before day surrenders to night. Visibility is limited by low, white clouds. Can’t look across the valley to see what’s happening there, or further up the southern range, to see if this precipitation has cast its lot with snow anywhere.
I’m happy with the rain, but not all in the household share the pleasure. Papi has traveled in and out in search of better weather. My wife said that at one point, she opened the door for him to come back in, but he acted like he wanted her to come outside. “I think he was saying, it’s raining, come out here and change the weather,” she related.
Alas, we don’t have the weather change app yet so we couldn’t help him. That forces him to go out and in and forces us to open and close doors for his travels. It’s become stale after ten rounds. We might be starkers by mid-afternoon.
Spending of starkers — no, I’m not going into politics yet. Too damn early to burst my spirit with tales from the dark side. I will say that I read that one Trump supporter, a Muslim, approves of Trump’s first days of activity. I’m waiting for the other shoe on that FAFO situation to drop. Like that man who wholly supported Trump’s actions until they came and took his wife away. Then, suddenly, he is crying, woe is me, and personally begging Trump himself to not take his wife away. They just don’t get it, do they? Trump and his minions care for no one but themselves. For that matter, Trump only cares about Trump. And he’ll lie in a breath without a thought. He’ll also speak without a thought, too, as he keeps proving. On further evidence, Trump supporters are like Trump in many ways, unaffected by these policies until it hits them, thinking only of themselves until it hits them, blissfully oblivious to what they say and do until it comes back and bites them in the ass.
The Neurons have brought up a 1993 Billy Joel tune. “The River of Dreams” is playing in the morning mental music stream. It has a sort of Gospel/spiritual flavor infusing it. The Neurons offered it to the stream after I’d gotten up in the middle of the night. Yes, a cat was involved. After taking care of the cat need, I had several needs, involving trips to the kitchen and the bathroom. I hadn’t turned on any lights, but we have several recessed night lights installed. Anyway, I also wandered to the window to check on the rain. That’s when the song came in. Joel sings, “In the middle of the night, I go walking in my sleep.” Seemed kinda apt at the time, in The Neurons’ opinion. Yes, although there are millions of them, the usually speak with one collective opinion.
Coffee is making its way through my systems, delivering whatever help it can. Time to fly. Hope your day is up to your hopes and aspirations wherever you might travel or whatever you do.* Here we go. Cheers
Flooftwin(floofinition) – Person and animal who bear startling resemblance to each other. Origins: 1960s United States.
In Use: “Among some of the stereofloofs that exist is the meme that bulldogs and their male owners are frequently flooftwins.”
In Use: “Sometimes, in response to a perception that a person and their pet are flooftwins, the human will start dressing the animal in the same style of clothes that they wear.”
It’s a potpourri of offerings and updates. Nothing important. Just sharing.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), my black and white wonder floof, had some issues this morning. I heard him in the litter box at a quarter to daylight this morning. The familar tones of him puking followed. I rose to check it out and soon learned that he was constipated. After comforting him, I warmed water and gave him a few CCs of that via syringe. Next, warmed water and made a slurry out of his kibble, which he eagerly took in. Finally, warmed water, mixed it with a Churro bisque and fed him a few CCs of that. Meanwhile, in his wanderings, three small, hard stools were released. After these treatments, he retired to his litter box and had a large bowel movement. Then he acted normal. But this is a warning shot; I need to shift his diet and ensure he’s eating more wet food. I’d noticed that since his teeth have been removed, that’s been a problem for him. I’m also picking up some cat laxative to keep on hand, just in case.
My healing continues, and my edema issues are improving. I’ve been experiencing bi-lateral edema. Started a few years ago, in conjunction with an obstructed bladder caused by an enlarged prostat. Ankle surgery last fall made it worse on my right leg and foot. I focus on reducing the swelling by day’s end every day. Here in general is what I’ve done.
Increased hydration. I’m drinking a ton of water a day. Peeing a lot, too.
Reduced alcohol and coffee.
Reduced my sodium intake. Banished any lunch meat from my lips. Bacon and sausage, which I never consumed much in the first place. Breads were cut back. Swore off most sauces and all salad dressings. Almost completely cut out butter. Eating more raw fruits and veggies. I consult labels for sodium content before buying or consuming.
Massage a CBD lotion into my legs, ankles, and feet each morning and evening. I follow the contours of my muscles, ligaments, tendons, and bones. This seems to help my blood and lymph flow.
Wear compression socks during the day. I typically have them on for about ten hours.
Elevate my feet. Each night I lie on my back with my feet up on the wall for 30 to 40 minutes. I exercise my legs, feet, and toes during this time. I then also elevate my right ankle further during the night.
Exercise several times a day to raise my heartbeat. Significant emphasis is given to moving my legs and feet. Besides brisk walking, I stretch and flex, plank for a minute, wallsit three times a day for a minute at a time, run in place, and do some light free weights.
Bought and wear orthopedic footwear.
This all seems to be paying off. My left limb and foot doesn’t swell much during the day at all. The swelling on my right foot, ankle, and leg is completely gone by each morning. Although it slowly swells during the day, the swelling isn’t as heavy. My mobility, strength, and flexibility have all improved, IMO, based on the exercises and my observations. I commence my lymph-edema massage therapy next week.
My wife and I both like to do word games like Connections, Spelling Bee, Wordle, and Hurdle. Each day, we talk about how easy or hard the games were for us. We also laugh about how we sometimes screw up. For example, with Wordle and Hurdle, you’re guessing a five letter word. You have six guesses. Correct letters show up in green. Letters which are in the word but in the wrong location are in gold or yellow. It’s humorous but irritating to realize after making some guesses that we’ve overlooked or have forgotten to use a letter in yellow in our guesses. It’s like, “OMG, I had a N in yellow that I forgot! What is wrong with me?”
Michael Seidel, writer 