Occuflooftion(floofinition) – An activity engaged with an animal. Origins: 14th century French floofish.
In Use: “Derek declared himself as ‘not a cat person’ to his wife but after the kittens came and demonstrated an aggressive and fearless willingness to attack anything, Derek’s primary relaxation at home became an occuflooftion like feeding the cats, playing with them, or napping together.”
In Use: “As Barb aged, she adopted an energetic puppy, and walking him become a time-consuming but enjoyable occuflooftion.”
Kind of weird for me to be dreaming about shopping IMO but my dream mind has its reasons, I guess.
My wife and I were at this largest outdoor plaza surrounded by stores. Going by the shadows and the purpling sky, it’s late in the day. Lot of people there but no familiars. We’re going around with a little silver metal shopping basket. There’s some kind of background crises happening that keeps distracting us. She wants to go see what’s going on, but I insist that we need to finish shopping. I rationalize in the dream that if things are going to get worse, finishing the shopping is important now because we might not be able to later.
So, we shop — for pet food. I get cans and bags of food. Quite amazing what fits into that little silver metal basket I’m carrying. It’s like a TARDIS. News then comes that whatever was happening that was worrying everyone is done, finished, kaput. Crises averted, everyone else is now shopping, but we’re done.
People strolling by are peeking into my basket to see what I have. When they do see it, they’re very impressed, especially with the bags of cat food. “Where did you find it?” They asked. “How much did you pay?”
I explain that I got it on sale and it was very inexpensive. They begin responding, “I was just there, and there were sold out,” and, “That was a bargain. You got a great deal.”
My wife and I are pleased, of course, because we were able to buy what we needed before it was gone, at a reduced price, one that others envy.
Floofibuster(floofinition) – Action by an animal which presents actions from being advanced. Origins: 1851, southern United States.
In Use: “Hissing and growling cats floofibustered the people from entering the room more than the door’s threshold, putting a pause to the tour.”
In Use: “Atlas leaped up, barking and growling at the doorway, floofibustering Suzanne’s plans to go to sleep without first taking the bat to see what was going on.”
Another lovely summer morning has slide into place. We shall call it, “Rumplestiltskin”. Naw, we’ll stick to the usual boring but useful process and call it Wednesday, June 26, 2024. Like many a newborn, it’ll be marked but what happens during its short life.
It’s 65 F now and the cats are cooling it in favorite cooling-it spots after eating brekkie. 81 F may tempt the temp measuring devices but the weather cards tell us it ain’t s’posed to be too hot today. My breakfast of kumquats, blueberries, passion fruit, almonds, brazil nuts, and a bagel has been consumed, and I’m loading coffee into my system as cool breezes gambol in through the windows.
Two songs are occupying the morning mental music stream (Trademark refreshed). Snippets of one entertain the neurons, and then the other pops in. One song is “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fightin'”, an Elton John song of some repute. It was featured in a dream where I was playin’ the six-stringed instrument and singing it, performing for a packed place. I had strikingly huge arms in this dream, and kept looking at them in mirrors from different angles, thinkin’, “Boy, that looks strange.” With those aspects all that’s remembered of the dream, it deserves a prefix like ‘mini’ or adejctive like ‘brief’ before it.
The other song has some Sting softly songing “I want my MTV,” and then those drums and other things start up and we go full-fledged into the Dire Straits hit, “I Want My MTV”. MTV offered memoriable shows and ideas but now it’s a fading phenom as MTV.com now says ‘that page does not exist.’
Started in 1981, I was on Okinawa during its early years. I was familiar with it because a friend and co-worker had friends recording MTV for him and sending the videos to him so he could watch them on VHS while he rode an exercise bike in his living room. I watched a little but became bored sitting there as they tried to entertain us with music news and music videos. Many videos were interesting but it didn’t induce me into wanting to waste the day watching them.
Of course, MTV gave us Comedy Central, which begat “The Daily Show”, which often saved us when faced with political insanity.
The first music video played on MTV was “Video Killed the Radio Star” by The Buggles. But the second was Pat Benatar with “You Better Run” so that’s our theme music today.
Stay strong and be positive. Let’s freshen the coffee and start rolling this day up the hill. Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers
Humfloofbo(floofinition) – A practice used by animals to help develop relationships with people. Origins: Old Floofish. Modern scholars theorize the word means ‘human-floof-bond’ but no evidence has been brought forward to support that idea.
In Use: “Humfloofbo evidence is experienced by many every day, and cell phones and social media help spread awareness of its existence.”
In Use: “Many young floofs such as kittens or puppies attempt early humfloofbo efforts by nuzzling, licking, or biting humans while elephants will use trunks to stroke people as part of their humfloofbo.”
Mood: waitsive (waiting with a pensive feel, ya know?)
Greetings from the third rock. It’s Tuesday, June 25, 2024, and we have a crispy summery morning for you. Temperatures are slipping through the mid sixties and they’d keep that line going until we’re into the mid- to upper- 90s here in Ashlandia. The sky’s so blue, it must be true.
The status quo for me has settled. Act 1 is over, the first half, whatever sports or theatatrical term you wanna apply. We’re at intermission, half time, etc. Next, we’ll see what happens — the debates, the wars, SCOTUS decisions, Dad’s dialysis decision, my annual physical and my ankle, etc. I’m sure you have your own list of matters.
Yes, my ankle worsened yesterday. I went about without wrapping it, and it rewarded me by blooming into a larger size last night. I reciprocated with rest, ice, and elevation. Now it’s wrapped again. Bah, humbug.
With these matters occupying Der Neurons, songs with a waiting theme were percolating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark simmering) but then someone said something that sounded like, “Coming for you.” This was followed by some f-bombs and dog barking, all of which was traced to the street, a good long bomb pass away. A man was walking, his large dark dog unleashed. A woman with a leashed medium-sized canine was taking umbrage and the dogs were cursing one another with great teethy zeal. I went back in and checked on the cats (repping in the back yard) (repping: resting but not quite napping) and resumed my usual routines.
Pretty much a nothing burger, but it shifted Les Neurons’ path. Now they plied the morning mental music stream with “Great Rain” by John Prine with Mike Campbell from 1991. Conducting some forensics, I realized that one point in the verbal melee outside (would that be a verlee?), I thought I heard someone call my name. Confusing and brief, but it apparently hooked The Neurons, inducing them to think of this song’s lyrics, “I thought I heard you call my name.”
Stay positive, stay strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is being sampled and brain city is coming alive. Here’s the music. Cheers
The cats and I agree, it’s a strong sun today, biting my skin with its heat, blinding my eyes (yes, what else would it be blinding — my ears?) with its light. Not supposed to be hot today, just 87 F, and it’s just 67 F now. This is Monday, Jun 24, 2024.
The cats are pratically living in the backyard, slumbering beneath bushes or stretched out, floof-napping in green patches of lawn. They come in to visit me, get fed, and use the litter box, and then dash back out. Reminds me of being a young child in the summers, doing the same with Mom. Except I didn’t use a litter box. Not in those days.
I jest, of course! Spoke with Dad yesterday. He’s down. They — the omniscient they here is the medical staff — are pushing for the dialysis port, and he doesn’t want to go through with that. He seems fazed by the surgery and claims he doesn’t want to be a burden on people, as others would need to drive him to his appointments several times a week. I’m sure he will go through with the procedure but he needs to work himself up to it. I called him this morning to chat with him but reached his voice mail. I need to call Mom to catch her up on that news. Never did call her yesterday.
Terrible flooding in the midwest. Iowa was severely hit. Evacuations were ordered and bridges collapsed. I remember flying over the plains states decades ago. The floating and the heat dome are connected events. Hope the climate doesn’t get any worse or the nation and its citizens might start getting worried. Yeah, that’s snark, baby.
My spouse picked up a nice Charles Wysocki jigsaw puzzle at Ashlandia’s library of things yesterday. I thought we should have some on hand for more Internet outages. We began the puzzle last night, even though the net didn’t go out. Lovely little beach scene featuring an old house where a high school kite flying club meets. Kites lean against an old fence in the sand and a heart shaped balloon, tethered to the gate, floats above the scene, red against a cloudy blue and white backdrop. A few sailboats skim choppy waters in the background. I can almost smell that ocean.
Other than these matters and the standard form of our days of eating, cleaning, writing, reading, it’s quiet. I accept quiet. Still recuperating with my ankle issue.
Today’s music comes by way of Willy Nelson. I was reading about his show cancellations and the article reminded me of a gay cowboy song Willy sings. The Neurons immediately began a little rendition of the song, “Cowboys Are Frequently Fond of Each Other”, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark grazing). Although Willy’s version came out back when Brokeback Mountain was gaining Oscar attention, I picked up a later version done by Willy and Orville Peck. Hope you enjoy it.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Also brace yourself for a busy news week. With more SCOTUS news forthcoming, the end of June sending up a cloud of dust as it sprints at us, and the debates and the weather, I’m sure there will be a lot to talk about, read about, and GRRRRR about.
Floofbat(floofinition) – Activity characterized by an animal battling a machine, mechanical device, or inanimate object. Origins: Internet, circa 2020-2024
In Use: “Refusing to yield to the robot floor cleaener, the cat engaged in minimal floofbat with it.”
Michael Seidel, writer 