Infloofdescent (floofinition) – Growing in the number of floofs.
In use: “It began innocently, let’s get a dog, but then their daughter wanted a cat, a turtle was requested by their son, and a pregnant cat showed up begging for food, and that was it, the infloofdescent was on.”
Sunshine and thunderstorms are today’s specials. Toaster waffles are on the breakfast plate. Coffee on the side.
It was cool today, Thursday, May 18, 2023, but it’s warming. Started at 54 F. Now 67 F on its way to 84 F. Sun shooed night out before six AM. Night will push back tonight around 8:15 PM.
We’re still holding our breaths about election results. Measure 15-214, which I voted against, is failing at the moment, but it’s by less than 1%. Like many issues, we’re narrowly divided around here.
We’re also celebrating the case against Rudy Giuliani, worrying about fires in Canada and flooding in Italy, and despairing about too many things to write about.
For today’s theme music, I decided to ignore The Neurons’ input and go with the splashy Eurovision winner, “Tattoo” by Lorreen. It’s a dramatic, interesting song and video, catches attention and doesn’t let up. It’s a love song, but not sunny love, a reflection of the modern realization that emotions are tangled and hard to control.
Time to eat and drink up. Stay pos and champion yourself. Here’s the music. Cheers
Delicious weather in Ashlandia today. Spring at its best. 67 F at the mo, 75% humidity. 88 F expected later, and thunderstorms. Yesterday was delightful, too, relaxing, comforting, an invitation to sit and enjoy yourself for a while. It’s so floofriendly. Tucker has settled but open doors and happy weather invites Papi to prance in and out. He steals up to me, stares up, gets an ear rub from moi, then dashes out, only to return. Sometimes I chase and hide, which he loves doing.
The election is over. We await the outcome. 15-214, which absorbed our attention and discussion, is predictably tight but votes are still being counted.
Today’s music fell into my lap. I’d been sent a video link about tiny computers a teacher was asking my beer group to buy for their class. This video was off to the right. “Two of Us” from 1969 is by the Beatles. The song is pretty lazy but I enjoyed the footage of the lads from Liverpool and others laughing, joking, talking. Nostalgia caught The Neurons, so here we are.
And the coffee has arrived to great cheering from the body and its various elements. Most vociferous cheering is heard from the brain, where neurons are stamping their feet, chanting, “Coffee, coffee, coffee.” The foot stamping is off-putting to the ears, who are gesturing with annoyance at the brain. But in general, it’s a festive air.
Stay pos. Assess, adjust, advance. Here’s the tune. Cheers
It’s election day in the U.S., one more time. The culmination of hopes, dreams, ideas, complaints, arguments, debates, and discussions about spending, revenue, who is charge, and what’s going to happen next but on a smaller scale than then ‘national’ elections.
They, the omniscient bureaucrats, put it into motion years ago and now we are here, on Tuesday, May 16, 2023. Ashlandia is enjoying lovely sprummer weather. Top temps struck 88 in my slice of the realm yesterday. Late afternoon showers put a damper on that. Timer and settings were for set for four minutes and light to moderate, so that rain was gone almost before you could smell the petrichor. Then thunder boomers commenced. Tucker was unbothered but Papi did a concerned low to the ground jog into the house, sitting down by me to keep him safe. Poor fellow.
It’s 62 F now, 8:30 in the AM. The usual routines have been fulfilled. Coffee is brewed and awaiting entrance into my alimentary canal, which I shall do as soon as the cooling is enough. Sunrise was well before six meows. Not true, really. Papi was in and out, meowing each time for assistance. It’ll be 84 F today, sunny and cloudy.
My biggest news was my cougar sighting. Happened at 10:45 PM. I like going out in the late evening to breathe the air and admire the celestial existence above me. Don’t turn on lights because that would ruin the moment — enough lights already on along the street, thanks — but do carry a small flashlight. This time, when I walked out, I saw an animal in the street start and do a lazy trot up the hill, a cat-like trot but waaayyy bigger than any cat I’ve known. About twenty feet away. Totally silent. Did I mention big? What was really striking was it’s looonnnggg tail.
I flashed the light at them but was too slow. They’d gone up around the corner. My concerns were for my cats. The front door was open behind me. Tucker was saunter-washing — two steps forward, pause to wash a paw, continue two steps — so I closed the door before he was out. Papi was already out, so I called for him sotto voce because I didn’t want the cougar to respond to my whistles, kissing sounds, and name-calling.
As I did that, I thought, did it look like the cougar had something in its mouth? Papi is just a little fourteen pounder. Amuse bouche for a cougar.
Then I went back in, related all to my wife, who was in bed, reading, and got my sword. I figured that if I’m to save Papi from a cougar, a sword would be useful.
I’d bought the sword a few years ago for Halloween. It’s made of wood about half an inch thick, thirty inches long. Stupid me gave away my ball gear, including bats, because I was no longer playing and some youths would make better use of it. Now what was there to ward off a cougar? A broom? Well, yeah…but, you know…image. The sword was better.
Papi didn’t return for hours, but he finally did. Found him on the back patio. He looked like he had a story to tell, seemed ready to spill on an adventure, like, “Damn, you wouldn’t believe the size of the cat I saw. They must be giving him a lot of treats. Cat that size probably just takes his own treats. I wish I was that big. Then I’d show that little dog next door.”
Cougar sightings aren’t unusual for Ashlandia. They’ve been spotting all over town, along with their kills, and kills being made. All is well, for now, though.
Today’s music arises from errand running yesterday, dropping off ballots — Oregon is all ‘mail-in’ but with drop boxes — pick up library books, mail a bill, and buy romaine. Meghan Trainor’s 2022 song, “Made You Look”, came on the car radio. Spouse turned it up with the comment, “I like this song. It’s fun.” I agree. Nice throwback doo wop vibe to it. Short, though, but fun. The Neurons liked it enough to loop it through the mental music stream. Thought it a good song for a cougar sighting — “I made you look.”
Stay pos and carry forward. The coffee has just been tested and The Neurons are pleased. Here’s the music. Cheers
He watched his cats regard one another. Each feline seemed wary and doubtful of the other although they’d lived together for over six years. He believed that both cats thought of himself as the better floof and thought the other was a little crazy. Of course, being the better floof to them also meant that they were due more attention and treats than that other, inferior floofer.
Today is Sunday, you know what that means. It’s May 11, 2023. Mother’s Day in America. It’s a love fest out there.
Beautiful day here, too. Yesterday’s temps peaked at 88 F around my house, and it was gorgeous. Spirit lifting and energizing. Today appears much like yesterday. Sky is sick with blue and sunshine. High of either 88, 90, or 97 F predicted. Warm, busy wind today. Invigorating, peeps. Cats are totally digging it, parading in and out of the house for a while until finding just the right spot for a warm spring morning nap. Don’t really know where Tucker is squatting but he’ll show up come kibble time.
Merry Mom Day to all it celebrate it. Hope it’s a grand day.
Mom has received the card, letter, and chocolates I sent her. She’s pleased. As two sisters and many grands and great-grands live within half an hour of her or so, MD is always done up. Mom is more limited now, uses a walker, gets tired easily, so plans will be different. Uncle Billy’s funeral was last night, too, so that’s put a damper on Mom’s spirits. I’ll get a full report later.
Nephew — little sister’s number two son — is marrying this year. We’re busy getting clothes and making plans to fly to the PA area for that. Since we’ll be on the east coast, we’ll go down south to visit other family, too.
Today’s theme music came about when someone talked about something going on. Several others and I said, “I can help,” and “Me, too,” and all that. The Neurons took that opportunity to re-acquaint me with Billy Swan’s 1974 song, “I Can Help”. Ubiquitous — on numerous radio stations of rock, pop, and country persuasions — he also showed up on television. It’s another one of those songs that landed and splashed and I rarely heard again. But you get to hear it today as Sunday’s theme music.
Stay pos, make the day worthy of being alive if you can — I know too well, limiting forces muscle us around — and enjoy coffee. Coffee: it brings out the best in me.
Unbefloofed(floofinition) – To be without an animal or animals, especially farm animals or housepets.
In use: “His dog passed a week after the cat, both startling, sudden events, and he found himself unbefloofed for the first time since he’d become an adult, opening the door for a crow to come into his life.”
The sun rose before me, a little before six AM. Gonna be hot again. 63 F now. Some say it’ll reach 86 F in Ashlandia. Others pronounce 90 will be the temp top. 97 F is in others’ forecasts. All three may actually be right, depending upon which part of the city you’re in. I believe we’ll see 91 in my locale. Hit 82 F yesterday.
Gorgeous out there right now. All green and blue. Mellow mountain breeze is sloping down into the open back doors. The cats come in, come by me for a welfare check and to see if I’m eating or doing anything of interest, and meowder back out.
Yardwork is in my future after the writing session, as the last rain cycle caused weeds to explode in height and density. I’ll cull the dandies a bit but we let them stay. Bees like ’em.
Terrible dream last night. Vivid and intense. Took me about an hour before slumber crawled back in me.
But the day’s song comes from a walk yesterday. Up from the wells of 1969 came “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” by the Bob Seger System. Found an interesting video of it being performed by a young and beardless Bob Seger. Never seen him without a beard. I always believed he was born with a beard. The set is fascinating as well. It’s an energetic rendition.
Stay pos and take Saturday like a happy pill. Coffee is tugging my leash so I’m going on. Here’s the beats as heard over fifty years ago. Cheers
Floofflee(floofinition) – When one or more animals run, fly, or swim away at great speed from a real or perceived threat.
In use: “Michelin was a large dog with a muzzle greyed with time, but he could floofflee with the best whenever booms broke the air, no matter their source.”