Misanfloof (floofinition) – Person or animal who avoids the company or society of animals. Origins: Greek, first used in the stated meaning in 1683.
In Use: “She thought he might be a person she wanted to spend her life with until she decided to adopt a puppy and learned that he was a misanfloof.”
In Use: “Karen loved having a pet floof but somehow always managed to adopt one who was a misanfloof who angered whenever any other animal of any sort was around.”
Recent Use: “His latest movie was about a misanfloof who becomes a prophet surrounded by animals after a climate change disaster.”
Metafloofosis(floofinition) – Change of physical appearance, size, or personality and behavior in an animal. Origins: Internet, 2020
In Use: “Orphaned as little ones, the puppy and kitten each easily fit into the palm of a hand, but after metafloofosis, they were magnificent creatures who each easily took up half a bed.”
In Use: “The black rescue cat was renamed from Ebony to Sunny, but stayed hidden for the first three days. Day four delivered a metafloofosis from a scared and wary floof into a sweet and intelligent boi who enjoyed treats, playing, catnip, and conversing with his new people as he sat on their laps.”
Recent Use: “The four rescue kittens metafloofosized from extra spicy gray furballs into purring little sweethearts who easily found new homes.”
Cruoof(floofinition) – An intense fatuation with an animal. Origins: Internet, 2022
In Use: “After arriving as a rescue dog at Sara, the senior lab immediately developed a cruoof on the kittens Sara was fostering, inviting them to cuddle and play with him, and watching over them when they ate.”
In Use: “Butterscotch had a cruoof on Mocha, always running to him when she saw him, and grazing beside him as he ate.”
Recent Use: “Lisa developed a cruoof on her aunt’s Bernese Mountain Dog, Samwise, and within a few minutes, the dog seemed to have the same feelings for the four-year-old as the two spent the rest of the day side by side.”
It’s foggy in Ashlandia again. Fog closed in on our fair town, where the mountains are low and the valley is narrow, yesterday afternoon. The for went away for the night and returned this morning, along with a doughnut sprinkle of rain that’s expected to keep up intermittently for the day. It’s all part of the season called aunter, which falls in the last third of fall, bringing dampness, dark days, and cold air, and winter, when the snow is summoned.
But look out. It’s 45 F now but we’re gonna get warmer, even broaching the sixties, maybe, they say, maybe getting as warm as 66F. Not bad for a aunter day.
This is Wednesday, December 26, 2023.
I was in a Dollar Store with my wife yesterday. She’s planning a holiday gift for her exercise class instructor. My spouse has been going to this class since 2005. The instructor is 78 and has been telling people what to do to music since the early 1980s. She’s quite popular. My wife became friends with her over exercising and books. My wife and two others, who were then known as the Woo-Woo girls, started talking about books they were reading as they warmed up before class. Soon the instructor joined, and then a few others, giving rise to the Ladies’ Most Excellent Book Club, which became the book club. They limit it by vote to ten people, and they’re serious readers. We’ll be going to the instructors’ house for a traditional Swedish smorgasborg later this month.
Anyway, as part of the holidays, my wife has started a new tradition of collecting money and signing a card for the instructor. The instructor rarely keeps the money, either donating it to families who need it, or to local causes with the food bank. My wife likes going to the Dollar Store for supplies. It might be a Dollar Tree store; I don’t pay attention. I know they’re no longer a store where things are a dollar or less. But yesterday surprised me.
The dollar store has restaurant and big box store gift cards, along with iTunes gift cards. Many were for $25 or $50. I didn’t bother asking the busy staff it the cards sold for a dollar. They’ve probably heard that joke, and nothing on that end cap display said, “Olive Garden $50 Gift Card: One Dollar”.
It’s just more evolution for the dollar store trio who combined into one business entity a few years ago. I remember first going to one of them thirty years ago after moving back to the United States. I was like, everything in the store is for sale for a dollar? Why, yes, that was exactly the premise: a dollar or less. Being in the military, not getting paid much, and liking a bargain, we went frequently to the Dollar Tree or Dollar Store to get household cleaning supplies, notebooks and paper supplies — including greeting cards — and whatever little bargains we found.
Sad that the stores have changed their philosophy, but that’s how progress works. I guess. At least we’ll someday be able to tell future generations that there used to businesses which sold things for a dollar. They’ll probably ask us, “What’s a dollar?”
An apartment building neighbors us not too far away. With the leaves out of the trees, I can see some of their upper windows from my backyard. Yesterday, I saw a cat in one of the windows. It’s not the first cat I’ve seen in the building, so it’s not that remarkable. This was a fine looking cat, young and slender-appearing, sitting erect as a statue in that graceful cat manner we so often see. White with calico spots, it was intently watching me. I wondered if the cat was lonely and I hoped that it was’t.
That tiny reflection invited The Neurons to offer a song to the mental music stream, where it continues in the morning mental music stream (Trademark nutty). “Only the Lonely” by The Motels, not to be confused with “Only the Lonely” by Roy Orbison, came out in 1982. So it’s for that cat and the other floofs alone and watching that this song is offered as Wednesday’s theme music.
Stay pos and strong, and lean in. Coffee has arrived at the brain center, exciting The Neurons. Here we go, off to start the day. And here’s the music. Cheers
Floofpell (floofinition) – Urge or drive forward or on by an animal’s exertion, coercion, or insistence to do something. Origins: from Middle English, derived from Latin. First noted use 15th century.
In Use: “Intimidated by the cat, the dog was floofpelled to surrender the pet bed, even though he outweighed her by fifty pounds.”
In Use: “Many cats seem to learn early how to floofpell people to get up and let them in or out of the house, or to feed them in the middle of the night.”
Recent Use: “Animals often effectively employ ‘doe eyes’, a hopeful, charming gaze, to floofpell people to do things for them.”
Floofbbing (floofinition) – Ignoring someone with you and and giving attention to animals instead. Origins: 2020, United Kingdom.
In Use: “As the pandemic took over 2020, many people forced to stay home became more interested in animals, especially housepets, and floofbbing, which was aready frequently a de facto issue in many homes with pets, began to rise, affecting relationships among people.”
Recent Use: “Reading about floofbbing and its impact on relationships, Michael realized he was also guilty of wriubbing (the i is silent), ignoring someone and giving attention to writing instead. But then, he rationalized, people were also guilty of gaubbing — ignoring others to play games — and reubbing: reading or paying attention to a book instead of another person with them. Hell, there were probably problems with coubbing (computers), chiubbing, too, which would be children, and even trumbbing, ignoring another to focus attention on former POTUS Donald Trump.”
It’s Wednesday, November 29, 2023. If you’re counting the days, November has just one more, and then December steps up to assert her presence.
A hazy shade of winter rules out there, even though it’s technically still autum, with gray cotton-candy clouds smothering sunshine and blue sky. Temperature has climbed to 35 F from the overnight low of 28 F at my house. Still dry, we still have a stagnant air warning. The air quality is moderately down because people are using their fireplaces and much of the smoke stays in the area, affecting breathing, eyes, etc.
My wife made me laugh last night. She frequently does, although the way I put, it sounds like a rare thing. Anyway, the cats had me surrounded, one on the floor beside me to my left, one beside the computer on the desk, paw on mouse to my right. I was mildly complaining about them because I was trying to get something done and they were hampering me. “Look how they look at you,” she said. “They’re like, he’s so dreamy.” LOL
Politics influenced The Neurons and their music choice today. Is that a surprise? My wife was The Neurons’ influencer. Trump and his supporters dismay her. She’s a lifelong feminist and social activist, with a long history of standing up for others and fighting for change. So, after reading some Red State news to see what was going on there, she made comments along the lines of wishing Trump was gone. I later discovered I was humming a song to myself. When I stopped to challenge what it was, I couldn’t quit remember it, to The Neurons’ delight. But this morning, I thought about it again, and bang, “I’ll Feel A Whole Lot Better” by The Byrds (1965) cranked up in the morning mental music stream (Trademark ancient).
I initially heard the song from AM radio when it came out when I was nine. Mom usually had music on in the car as we accompanied her when she was shopping and running errands. This being 1965 and later, the cars would’ve been her big white Chevy Impala convertible or her equally huge brown Buick LeSabre. Both had interiors the size of small living rooms, with steering wheels worthy of guiding the Titanic. While I heard it there, though, I learned the song more from my older sister. She had the album, Mr. Tambourine Man. I sharply remember its faded album cover, worn from being slid around. Her little record player was only good for 45s, so she had to ask Mom for permission to playher 33s on the big Magnavox console stereo in the living room, or take her albums to a friend’s house to play them. She played it often enough around me that I later played a bit of it on guitar when I began trying that instrument. Of course, Tom Petty did the song in 1989 on one of his albums, reviving memories of the original.
The song is a quite mellow folk-pop tune. The line in it behind the childhood connection and Trump and his hateful, authoritarian stances is, “And I’ll probably feel a whole lot better when you’re gone.” She and I agree that we will feel better when Trump is gone. Given his diet and overweight appearance, stress from campaigning for POTUS while screaming at people till he turns purple, all while enduring four trials, coupled with his denial about his health, she and I wouldn’t be surprised if a stroke or heart attack felled him within the next few months.
Stay pos, be strong, lean forward. Coffee is delighting my taste buds even as I write. Here’s the music. Cheers
It’s November 28, 2023, a Tuesday. Only seventeen hundred billion shopping days until Black Friday/Cyber Monday/Last Chance Tuesday and Special Deals Wednesdays ads, commercials, mailers, and emails are gone. Then what will we do?
The furnace is busy this morning in Ashlandia, where summers are hot and spring is above average. Faintly gray and softly weak clouds malinger in the blue sky. Awakening temperature was 28 F outside. Inside was a chilly 62 F but at least I was inside and could turn on the fireplace and furnace to warm the house. I count that as a win. We are working our way up through the forties, with expectations that we’ll level off in the mid-fifties.
The floof masters have decided all will be better served by staying in during these cold hours. I appreciate that, as we also have the stagnant air advisory going on, and my nose is feeling it a bit. I worry what it does to the cats. My preference would be that they’re more permanent house cats, going out to nap in the backyard when the air is clear, the sun is bright, and the temperatures are comfortable. But the floofbeasts are obstinate little buggers; it’s one of their main strengths.
Today’s theme music was not a gift from The Neurons. Nor was it dream inspired, or triggered by some conversation. No, I have “Mrs Robinson” by Simon & Garfunkel rounding through the morning mental music stream (Trademark inept). This was inspired by Jill Dennison’s blog about the song. She featured it as her song choice this morning, and tells the story about how the song developed and ended up in the movie, The Graduate. I found an interesting recording of S&G playing it in Central Park, NY, in 1981.
Stay strong, be positive, and keep leaning forward. Hot coffee is being freshly consumed. Here’s the video. Cheers
Flooftimist(floofinition) – A person inclined to be hopeful about animals and to expect good outcomes for animals. Origins: 1759, England.
In Use: “The big black dog was found sick, injured, and undernourished, lying in his own filth in bushes by the side of a busy road. Vets said that the best thing to do was euthanize him, but the dog kept looking at Marcia and wagging his tail, bolstering the flooftimist in her. Finding another vet willing to try to save the dog, six months later, she had a new best friend.”
Recent Use: “With emerging health and medical practices, more people are flooftimists, locating and helping stray, feral, and abused animals around the world in a growing global network of animal activists and friends.”
Lovely fall day is on display today, Monday, November 27, 2023. 45 F under a sunshine drenched blue sky with another stagnant air advisory out for Ashlandia, where the deer are above average and the bears are like Yogi — not. Time is blocked out for activity so I’m spinning this fast.
Gonna be 53 F today. A memory came up of a November snowstorm experienced four years ago. That’s looking out my front window. I did the usual whining about the cold and the inconvenience back then but also was thankful for the snow to help end the drought, which was severe in those days. We’re still working on getting out of it but it’s much better this year, knock on drywall; there were no penalities levied on us for our water use and no cutbacks or limitations announced this year.
Responding to his most royal Floof Papi the First and his 3 AM door service directives, as I walked by a window, I was taken aback, even though the blinds were drawn. Looked like a big ol’ spotlight was trained on my residence. I quickly had ideas that some crime was underway and the police had the place surrounded with a mega spotlight blowing up the scene for all to see. I thought, “There’s something happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear.” I pulled the blind up to see if there was a man with a gun out there. But it was but a sky cleared away for a Beaver Moon to shine down on us. Let me tell you, without any heavenly obstructions, that moon was a bright puppy. I would have stayed out admiring it but I was half naked and barefoot, and the air temp was settled around 36 F.
The Neurons suggested The Logical Song by Supertramp, 1979, sliding it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark woke) for my AM entertainment. The suggestion was certainly born from my wife and I discussing various things and concluding how much of what we read or saw via videos seemed illogical. More, though, there are frequently questions which run deep in my mind on into the night, not just about politics, news, history, and religion, but more philosophical elements about the state of existence and reality, and then soft mourning about how complicated our world has become in this information age. “The Logical Song” addresses some of these matters.
I went with an interesting version performed by Ringo Starr & His All-Starr Band. That is the songwriter and the original vocalist, Roger Hodgson from Supertramp on keyboard.
Gonna enjoy the day best that I can and make it successful on my level, using my measuring methods. Hope you will, too. Stay positive, keep strong, and lean forward. I’m sure I’ll do the same, once I get some coffee in me, along with the pumpkin muffins with maple topping my wife made me. Goes super with fresh hot coffee. I’d offer you one but by the time it’s delivered to you, I don’t think it’d be nearly as good.
