Floofitime(floofinition)1. Time set aside or dedicated to an animal’s needs or activities. Originally used in US households in the 1980s.
In Use: “The dogs know that 6 PM meant the floofitime for their walk, and they weren’t concerned about no stinkin’ snowstorm.”
2. Of or relating to things associated with animals. First observed in Europe in the 1640s.
In Use: “The typical floofitime identifiers — cat and dog toys, beds, and feeding stations — immediately marked the home as a floof-friendly, or floendly, as Mom used to say, home.”
Hello to all the genders and orientations on the blue marble and welcome to March 8, 2023, March’s second Friday. Although cold air still has a grip in Ashlandia, it’s climbing. We’re already up to 47 F. Give a big hand to the sun-filled blue sky for that. We hit 61 at my place yesterday. 60 is forecasted for today so fingers crossed, we’ll peak above that threshold.
Crying, “Sunshine,” the cats rushed out to warm themselves. Sharp, gusting winds chased them right back in. The floofs comforted themselves with thorough grooming before setting into therapeutic naps in sunny indoor locations.
Musically, I heard Cat Stevens with “Peace Train” on Jill Dennison’s post this morning, a powerful and memorable song. My Neurons pivoted and put “Free Ride” by the Edgar Winter group into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). It’s a catchy tune, upbeat, rock and roll emblematic of 1972.
The mountain is high the valley is low And you're confused on which way to go So I've come here to give you a hand And lead you into the promised land So, come on and take a free ride (Free ride) Come on and sit by my side Come on and take a free ride
All over the country I've seen it the same Nobody's winning at this kind of game We've gotta do better, it's time to begin You know all the answers must come from within So come on and take a free ride
Confusion, help, an implied call for unity…kind of sounds like someone running for office, doesn’t it?
Speaking of politics, did you see or hear President Biden’s State of the Union? I did, and it wasn’t what I expected. He said many things I felt he needed to say and found it reassuring that he directly confronted GOP obstructionism while never giving ‘his predecessor’ a name. As someone mentioned the other day, don’t give the opposition oxygen by saying their name. I’m paraphrasing.
The GOP response was predictably weak and pathetic. President Biden’s predecessor used Truth Social as the media to respond during the speech. Like many Trump endeavors, it failed to deliver what it promised, failing to load, dropping, etc. And they addressed President Biden’s physical state, ignoring anything of substance, highlighting that the GOP’s only policies are oppression, obstruction, and regression. Sad. Not much to say about the official GOP SOTU counter speech as far as I’m concerned.
I laughed at Rep. Blake Moore’s comments after President Biden’s delivery. The Utah Republican said, “I was expecting President Biden to use tonight’s State of the Union address to find common ground and inspire a shared vision for America. Instead, the president delivered a divisive campaign speech.” (h/t The Hill). This from a party who obstructed President Biden efforts to move forward as much as they can, a party embracing a serial liar as their leader, a leader who declared he’d be a dictator on day one if he’d elected, a party which doesn’t offer a political platform, a party which repeatedly turns on itself. They expected a vision for unity? Please.
Democratic Senator Jeffries handled their criticism well, pointing out that a Republican house member wore a campaign hat during President Biden’s speech and that the expelled Republica from NY, George Santos, who faces over a dozen criminal indictments, was in attendance. And of course, this party wishing for a message of unity never stood and never applauded.
Stay positive and upbeat. Remain strong and lean forward. Register and vote blue. Coffee and lemon bread has been consumed. Here’s the music, and here we go. Cheersluc
Floofatize – (floofinition) – To change something from being for a human or human activity to one suiting animals. Origins: early 1960s, American homes.
In Use: “As soon as the rescue dog acclimated to his new home, he began floofatizing certain sleeping locations to claim it as his own.”
In Use: “Within a short time of adopting two cats, the patio was floofatized into a catio.”
Polyfloofmourus – (floofinition) – 1. An animal who visits several different places to exchange love with the inhabitants. Origins: early floofish, specific origins unknown.
In Use: “The big tom was known by several names, like Sketchy, Scratchy, Mike, and Nomad, and made a circuit of the neighborhood homes, stopping by to drop off purrs, accept pets and treats, play with others, and nap.”
In Use: “While Bonnie was Billy’s owner, Billy was naturally polyfloofmourus and visited neighbors to nap and eat, returning home to Bonnie after she came home from work.”
2. A person or animal who loves more than one animal.
In Use: “With cat, dog, goat, hamster, bird, deer, horse, cow, and sheep friends before she was five years old, Kamron established early on that she was polyfloofmourus, and stayed so as she matured and became an adult.
Floiche(floofinition) – A small place, often recessed and frequently hidden, that an animal finds suitable to stay, especially a hiding, sleeping, or spying space. Origins: early Internet, from English, combining floof and niche.
In Use: “A small cat, Quinn demonstrated an impressive jumping and climbing prowess and enjoyed floiches such as behind a stash of snacks atop the refrigerator, on top of books on the shelves, or in the closet on hangers, making finding him a daunting task.”
In Use: “Being a large dog, Bruno Mars’ natural floiches were in the open, typically on his big cloud of a bed, which is why he was so dismayed when the tiny rescue kittens came in and took his bed over.”
In Use: “A clever bird, Roscoe went high or low his floiches and always used cover, forcing people to mount long search parties through the house to discover where he was.”
Saturday, March 2, 2024. The winter storm finally discovered Ashlandia. Snow fell through the night and falls still this morning. Gathering to 4 inches around my life zone, the flakes come in an unending, peaceful, almost joyous descent. The scene out there is remarkably white and colorless. Even where parts of bushs and trees can be seen, their colors are diluted.
It’s 31 F now. Snow is expected to continue all day. Tonight’s low will be 24. This is what we needed. Maps show that it’s snowing the mountains, too, building the snowpack for summer.
I’ll stay home and try to write. The cats shouldn’t cause interference; Tucker has been medicated, and the pain meds knock him out for about four hours. He grows so stll, I check for breathing and notice one eye cracking open, ears shifting, to see who’s there. Papi has explored outside and is now exploring sleep in a warm living room niche. He seems to like this space between a tree by the button chair and the enterainment center. I refer to it as Papi’s Niche.
The Neurons have loaded my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) with music. Eric Clapton joins the Beatles to perform “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”, a particular favorite of mine. But there is also “I Want to Take You Higher” by Sly and the Family Stone, Chicago with “25 or 6 to 4”, and “Love Shack” performed by the B-52s.
Conversation with a friend may have inspired that last one. Meeting with a friend, he imparted some Vietnam conflict adventures he had as Army infantry. One story involved being ordered to get up and run because B-52s will coming in to bomb their location. He remembered looking up between the trees and seeing the bombers coming in, high and small from distance and altitude, while helicopters, lower but also small in perspective were entering the area from another direction. His order were running up a hill when then they were ordered, “Down now,” and the bombs began hitting.
But today’s theme music is another in the MMMS, “Superstar” from Jesus Christ Superstar, sung by Murray Head and the Trinidad Singers from 1969. This rocking song is relevant today as Christians work on tearing down democracy and freedom in America and work to estabish a white-man ruled theocracy ruled by a completely corrupt sinner, Donald J. Trump, by attacking reality itself.
Another dream storm last night. I’ve noticed now that I have this pattern; if I have a busy dream night, I’ll also have several songs in the morning mental music stream. But in parallel, my creativity increases, too. Wanting to understand more lead me to a search and articles like this one. I couldn’t find any decent articles talking about potential corelations between dreaming, ear worms, and creativity, but I’ll continue searching.
Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and vote. I will do the same. I’m up for more coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers
Floofsent (floofinition) – A state where animals won’t give or will withold approval or agreement, leaving others frustrated and confused; an ambivalent response by an animal caused by conflicting messages with their environment or memories. Origins: United States, early twenty-first century, Internet.
In Use: “One challenge many humans encounter is the animal concept of floofsent, in which they’ll display intentions to agree or accomodate what is being proposed while also demonstrating that something is bothering them.”
In Use: “The eminent floofologist, I.M. Thunken, believes that floofsent is a state animals encounter while trying to address mixed messages their superior senses are communicating to them, or issues of trust generated by their memories.”
Recent Use: “The injured stray dog wanted to trust the people but his floofsent was in turmoil as he confronted his rescuers and felt vibrations reminiscent of his recent tormentors.”
Mood: coffeebitious: a hopeful state of mind fed by coffee consumption
Thursday, February 29, 2024, has touched down. The month ends tomorrow, leaving just ten months of 2024 remaining.
I let Papi out at 6:06 this morning, the usual time that he begins crying to leave us. There was enough light that I let him out, suspecting he’d be returning in 20 minutes. Yes, at 6:30, I answered his call to come back in. I noticed it’d been raining and went by Alexa* to inquire about the temperature.
“It’s 44 degrees in Ashland,” she answered. “Today’s high is 44 degrees.”
Oh.
That’s all Fahrenheit, though she didn’t mention it. An hour later, letting Papi back in again, I discovered snowflakes big as silver dollars falling and accumulating. I checked with Alexa about the temp: 34, she told me.
It snowed for an hour more. The northern mountains and ridges were covered down to 3000 feet while the southern view had sparse snow sprinkled over the dark conifers. Now, about 11 AM, a smattering of snow remains but it’s dwindling. The temperature is back up to 41 F. No sun has broken through the sky’s uniformly off-gray cover, but the clouds are thin enough that the sun is almost breaking through. Light rain keeps windshield wipers busy.
Now to the asterisk. Current days, I find myself consulting five different weather sources, including Alexa. I have a home system that seems moderately accurate, but I constantly seek verification of its accuracy. Southern Oregon University has a weather station set up that I also check. A mile away and fifteen hundred feet lower, it’s not good for my location but it features a nice set of historic data for comparisons. A friend has set up a Wunderground station for his house, but he’s on a higher elevation and almost two miles away. Surrounded by trees, living on a mountain’s northern side, his weather varies from mine, but it’s nice to note what another part of town is experiencing. The other two are online offered by browsers and are usually fed by Weather.com. They’re not as accurate for me but they have nice forecast trend models which present some idea of what the weather will be beyond today.
Dreams swarmed my mind last night. At the final dream’s end, I found “I Remember You” filling the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). Written in 1941, I know the song well because I heard it often by different performers while navigating my teens in the 1960s. The song has been covered a lot. Most did it as a torch song. Even the Beatles did it. But the version I best knew was sung by a woman to an up-tempo arrangement. I cannot find that version and don’t know who it was singing it. Nor does Mom know.
That let The Neurons down some, but as I was searching, I came across other interesting songs. One was “I Remember You” by Skid Row, a 1989 power ballad not anything like “I Remember You” with Johhny Mercer’s lyrics. I remember hearing Skid Row’s song on the radio as I drove around to and from work and all that. While searching, I also slid sideways into “Remember (Walking in the Sand)”. The Neurons dished both the Shangri-Las and Aerosmith versions into the MMMS. More interesting to me was Lena Horne singing a song written in 1933, “Stormy Weather”. I knew that song well, too, and her voice and style mesmerized me. So that’s today’s theme music. Although several videos exist of her giving tremendous performances in her youth and middle age, I went with one when she was 80. BTW, it sounds like the guitarist supporting her might have been George Benson. Seems like his style.
Stay strong, lean forward, be positive, and vote, yeah? I’ll do the same, as best as I can. Coffee helps, and I have had a cup so I raring to go. Have a good one. Here’s the music. Cheers
Schefloofule – (floofinition) – An animal’s timetable about when things should be done.
In Use: “Many animals demand that their schefloofule be obeyed, with dogs and cats doing things like beating on their food bowl when they’re supposed to be fed.”
In Use: “Many people often complain about their cat’s schefloofule because it includes things like playing or being fed at a time when the human wants to be asleep.”
In Use: “Dogs thrive on routine, and when changes are forced into their schefloofule, they need an adjustment period.”
Recent Use: “Videos and stories on social media have surfaced show how floofs have adopted their people’s routines as their schefloofules and are adamant that they be followed to the minute when it comes to feeding or going to bed for the night.”
Michael Seidel, writer 