Category: Cat

Saturday’s Theme Music

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Sunshine and blue skies. Presently on the mid side of 60 F, up from 52 F overnight, we’ll be hunting the mid 80s before the sun skirmishes with the falling night and carries us into a new day.

It’s June and Saturday, June 3, 2023, for more exactitude. The cats are loving this weather, right? Mostly out there sleeping in part shade, part sun. Seeing them out there, and I drift through memories. Tucker has always been a little strange about doors. He goes to the linen door, coat closet door, garage door, pantry door. A drawn out merow is issued. His meowing is either very loud or barely a whisper. No midpoint for him. When it’s a loud meow, he draws out the sounds and employs several syllables.

I ask, “What? You want into the <insert location here>?”

Head nod (yes, by him), mumbling mew sounds, a head tilt at the door in question, his look shooting from it to me, back to it, conveying his desire.

Head shake (yes, by me). “Okay, buddy.” Sigh. Door is opened. He heads in for investigation, sometimes dwelling in wherever for fifteen to twenty minutes. He’s old now, a long-furred black and white stray who chose to stay with us, showing up with matted fur and bad teeth almost ten years ago, I think. Need to check the histories to know with certitude. Point is, these demands have been incorporated in his behavior since his first year with us.

The Neurons planted “Happenings Ten Years Time Ago” into the morning mental music stream. 1966 Yardbirds song. Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page on lead guitars, I thought this song was so cool when I first heard it, one of those radio offerings that had me jumping for the radio and reaching for the volume knob. Never heard it much on the radio in the years since. Don’t know when I last listened to it. But this morning, walking out of dream sleep and into the other room to begin standard morning practices, the first lines broke out of memory and into conscious thought.

Meeting people on my way
Seemingly I’ve known one day
Familiarity of things
That my dreaming always brings

Happenings ten years time ago
Situations we really know
But the knowing is in the mind
Sinking deep into the well of time

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Wasn’t long after that before The Neurons delivered the song to a loop in my head. I think it’s a related-to-writing thing. I obsess over time, reality, and questions of what we know vs what happened vs what we think we know is one that in my novel writing. Memory is a mischief maker and history is written by the winners and then revised, leaving many of us floundering about it all. So here we be.

Stay pos. Coffee drinking has commenced. Big old cup is a quarter down already. Goes well with a cool summer morning on the patio, sunshine blazing down, cats washing in the green grass, jay yelling at us all from different perches as he surveys the yard and lands on chairs and trees. Could be a good day, you know?

Here’s the tune. Cheers

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There & Gone

The floof is there and then he’s gone,

And then back beside me like a remembered song.

Pleasing me with his looks and presence,

Causing me to give him treats and attention as presents.

So it goes for a number of years,

Feeding him, tending him, addressing worries and fears.

Till it comes, a day so still,

Death has finally broken his will.

And he’s not beside me because he’s gone,

Till my mind brings him back like a remembered song.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Made it to June — June, when a young man’s fancy lightly turns to — well, that depends on the young man. We’re all different you know. Some ask, “What’s love got to do with it?”

Now that I’ve reached June, I’ve set my sights on July. As was said in the military on performance reviews, “Set low goals and failed to achieve them.” A cynic’s coven, they were.

Sunrise was about 5:30 on the AM side of the day and the setting part will be on the B side after 8:30. Temperatures for the nocturnal portion dipped into the mid 40s F but we’ve strutted into the low 60s by now, making our way to the low 80s in Ashlandia. How do you describe a sky this blue, not smudge by dust, smoke, or cloud, just sun-kissed and beckoning?

This, ladies and germs, is Friday, June 2, 2023.

Re-installed the pet door last night for Papi’s use. T’was removed for the winter. Some trepidation clings to the decision. Cougar, you know, seen in these parts. Well, there are several ranging our town’s streets and yards. Wife suggested, “Put the pet door back on so that you can get some sleep.”

“Cougar?” I responded, a one word summary of the six sentences said to remind her of her worries about a cougar getting Papi.

“This will give him an escape route. He can run in through the pet door if he gets scared.”

Sure, in a perfect world, I didn’t answer. That assumes Papi lounges around the back yard, close to him, instead of chasing moonbeams around the block. It also assumes that Tucker doesn’t passive-aggressively sleeps in front of the pet door, blocking it. Whatever. I am like water.

Today’s song is a product of glancing at the TV and seeing something. That something — I don’t know what it was — prompted The Neurons to select Dire Straits and “Lady Writer” (1979) from the memory bins and play it through the night. It still plays in the morning mental music stream, a classic DS sound to me. Catchy tune, upbeat, with intriguing words. Hope it stirs something for you.

Speaking of stirring, I’m stirring to get some java. The coffee low level light is blinking, and a top-off is the cure. Stay pos and bounce into the weekend, wherever your are and doing. Here are the lads and the song.

Cheers

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Floofnata

Floofnata (floofinition) – Song composed by an animal, typically with three or four movements, traditionally performed at night, when others are sleeping.

In use: “As usual, three in the morning came, and Biscuit began her floofnata, awakening everyone else in the house who began shouting at her to stop.”

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Okay, we’re back. It’s about half past coffee on a T-day morning. June 1, 2023. Looks like we made it. Well done. Give yourself a round of applause.

48 F outside in Ashlandia. Sunrise was 5:37 AM, about when I was scolding Papi in exasperation as he sang about his need to be free, never mind the cougars. A cool morning after a chilly night. Sunny, with clouds like sailing yachts cruising the space between the horizons. No visible snow. Need to walk down the street and look east to the higher els to see that. The thermometer will percolate up to the mid seventies today before the sun show shuts down and moves on to bring us another day.

Big news riding the US headlines is the debt ceiling deal passing the House. Who voted for it, who did not, he said – she said, who are the winners and losers, who lost political capital, who gained it. Reading this, The Neurons scoffed, snorted, chuckled, and dished up Aerosmith from 1974, “Same Old Song and Dance”, into the morning mental music stream for my musical merriment.

Breakfast has been et, coffee is prepared, and the day awaits. First, think I’ll read a bit. Stay pos. Coffee diem. Or sumpin’ like that. Here’s the band and their music. Cheers

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OFWB

OFWB (floofinition) – Floofhand for ‘one floof wrecking ball’, an animal which creates more destruction, mischief, or chaos than other animals.”

In use: “As a puppy, Chloe was a OFWB, destroying pillows, shoes, toilet paper, plants, and shower curtains, a trait which didn’t change as she matured; she only became more clever about her chaos.”

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

A cool spring morning, 65F, has settled on Ashlandia, where the men have beards and the children are above average. It’s May 20, 2023, a quiet morning. Activities are slowly cranking up. Summer unofficially started for many in the United States, kicked off the by somber sales, cookouts, and celebrations associated with Memorial Day. The needle on the thermometer will get tugged up into the upper seventies, and might even broach the 80s. As difficult to predict as whether the Biden-McCarthy debt limit bill will be passed.

There have been no more cougar signs in our sliver of Ashlandia. Papi and Tucker are still kept inside at night. Papi no like. He was better last night. Surprise, I fed him midnight-ish, which induced him to wash and sleep. Clever of me, isn’t it? I don’t know. He’s smart enough to manipulate me with what he’s learned.

My wife and I grilled out yesterday. Nada fancy. Portabella ‘shrooms, onions, asper-grass, squash, and red peppers, along with Impossible Burgers, our plant-based meat sub., coleslaw, and ranch style beans from a can. All were excellent. I’m not a great griller – my BIL and ex-BIL are both superb in that skill – but I muddle through. Yesterday’s muddle turned out great.

The Neurons have inserted “The Long Run” by The Eagles out of 1979 into the morning mental music stream. This is a direct result from reading political news and some personal projects underway. As so many frequently ask, “What’s going to happen? Will this work? What’s going to be the outcome?” To which frequently comes, “We’ll find out in the long run.”

Stay pos. Try to treat yourself better. Coffee drinking is underway, freshly brewed, black, untouched by cream or sugar, just the way it should be. Brekkie — oatmeal with cranberries, topped with granola — has also been completed. The cats have eaten and washed, and are now sunning. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Received some rain and thunder boomers yesterday afternoon. The house floofs took it in different ways. Tucker was all mellow, like, stop that noise, I’m trying to sleep. Papi came in and found a secure place beside me, remaining there, quiet and awake, until it was all over.

It’s Sunday, May 28, 2023. Spring pressed the rain button for Ashlandia one more time for today. Oh, the smell yesterday and this morning was wonderfully fresh, a restorative tonic for my senses. Clouds rule as far as my vision takes in. 64 now, we’ll be peeking into the mid to upper seventies by mid-afternoon, the weather jockeys say.

I was conversing with myself about a dream and its meaning, chuckling at a clear cliché which had been used. I scoffed at my dream manager. “Well, that’s not original.” Liking that, The Neurons kicked off “Come Original” by 311 from the turn of last century. I’d not heard the song in eons that I recall but then wondered, did I hear it somewhere in the background? Who knows with the mind, hey?

I’ve had brekkie, and some coffee. Time to launch the day in a serious way. Stay pos, yo? Here’s 311. Cheers

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Floofroid

Floofroid – (floofinition) – Animal who’s behavior or actions are a pain in the rear.

In use: “Although nominally a sweet animal, Papi’s willfulness often turned him into a real floofroid.”

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