Category: Cat

Friday’s Theme Music

56 degrees F at this moment. Expecting the mid to upper 80s before the sun’s Ashlandia sojourn ends. It’s Friday, My 12, 2023.

Today’s heat is a prelude to a week of it. What irritates about many of these weather changes is how it jumps into hot weather and collapses into chilly weather with little warning. Why can’t we hit the middle ground and stay there for a while.

I know, I whine a lot. Everyone complains about the weather but nobody does anything. I said it here first…

I’m feeling better in a psyche way today. Dropped some anxiety and stress. I naturally gravitate to being those things although I’m weirdly known for being calm in an emergency. Three things resolved that were affecting my stress and anxiety. Got my retired military ID — now known as a an Identification and Privilege Card — issued at last. Been trying for almost a year. Picture looks pretty good, too. Look like a sea captain in it.

Second, first annual physical since I passed 65 years old. Hell, first annual physical in a looonnnggg time. Nothing untoward discovered. As part of my general hypertension, I suffer white coat syndrome. Getting the appointment out of the way was a relief although they IMMEDIATELY scheduled one for next year, so I’ve got THAT to worry about.

Third, sadly but painfully true, is that the death watch for Uncle Bill is over. Reminders of immortality, sadness about changes, another milestone in growing older all seen and felt with one strike.

I was watching my boy, Papi, an aloof ginger floof, as he watched the street traffic yesterday. He can’t help but get into a position to see what is making that noise? What is coming? Then, as the noise-maker closes in — runner, biker, walker — with or without dog — street cleaner, he turns and flees to the porch’s safety, hides behind a post and leans around, continue to watch. If he sees me watching, he comes over to be let in, and then walks around the house demanded to be let outside. The back door is open this morning, letting him come and go.

Weird song The Neurons thrust into the morning mental music stream. From 1967, it’s called “Tin Soldier” by Small Faces (not to be confused with “One Tin Soldier”, which is a totally different song). The roots to hearing it today aren’t clear. Although I had disturbing dreams, I can’t pinpoint anything from them which would call the song out. My best guess is that the mid to late 1960s was time spent around Uncle Bill, so the The Neurons expanded the sphere, bringing this song in.

Stay pos, if you can. Can be difficult, I understand. I think a cuppa coffee is in order for me now. Let the pouring commence. Here’s Small Faces. See you on the flipside.

Cheers

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Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Alexa said, “Your cat, Papi, is at the front door asking to enter the house.” He answered, “Open the door and let Papi in, please.”

“Letting Papi in,” Alexa replied.

It’s really the best thing that Alexa does for him.

And then he woke up.

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Flooftibulate

Flooftibulate (floofinition) – 1. A hidey hole or location, such a corner, where animals like to hide or sleep. In use: “Tucker’s favorite flooftibulate is outside, behind a pillar and under a bush where he can’t be found without hard searching, yet the sun manages to steal in and warm him.” 2. A floof behavior of finding a place to hide. In use: “Though he was a large dog, when guns were fired, a car backfired, or fireworks went off, Conor would flooftibulate, not moving until the noise was done, and he was found and reassured that the world wasn’t ending.” PUBLISHING NOTE. Sorry about the format. Not WYSIWYG, because that’s not how it looked when I was creating it. Had to stop and copy everything into Word and then start over and paste back in because WP once again when into its Autosave freeze.
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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Last night was a lovely black night. I’d clean out the royal’s collection box (known in many homes as ‘the litter box’) and was securing its potatoes in a bag which was deposited in a garbage can outside the side door. The air was cool, the night was black, and the stars were fine. I stayed out for half an hour, enjoying the feel and scene.

Today, Wednesday, May 10, 2023, is cool — mid forties — but sunny, with a preternatural blue sky unafflicted by smoke, clouds, or haze. Gorgeous, yeah? Yet the weather minions whisper that it’ll be cloudy today, with thunderstorms and rain in the afternoon. High will 67 F. The sun’s grand entrance took place at a few minutes before six AM and the grand departure from Ashlandia’s skies will come about after eight PM. The floofs — Tucker and Papi by name — are eating that sunshine up.

Trying to help FB friends save a beautiful Husky, Sam.

He is off the death list, I understand. If you’re interested, or know someone who can save this doggo and give him a home, here’s the contact info. Reach out to them.

HE IS AVAILABLE AT:

DOWNEY ACC, DOWNEY, CALIFORNIA

#A5545826

CALL(562)-940-6898

DaccDowneyRescue@animalcare.lacounty.gov

IF YOU CAN ADOPT, FOSTER OR RESCUE.

Interesting dreams last night. Had a repeat of one which involved flying with Dad, but the jet was a big building with a luxurious red interior. We went around different parts of the aircraft napping, eating, watching movies, and chatting with others. That one ended and the next one had me in a military uniform, under attack and dealing with the fallout, and literally crapping my pants and being embarrassed and humiliated as people wondered what stunk. A friend was helping me, and then I made off to change clothes, and another old friend helped me. I ended up in two different uniform styles being worn, but is that so important when the place is going to be attacked?

I thought those dreams would trigger something from The Neurons in the matter of theme music, but they had other ideas. Last night’s black night inspired The Neurons to play “Black Night” by Deep Purple (1970) in the morning mental music stream. I went looking for a video of the song and was rewarded with this find, a group made of a little Purple, Iron Maiden, Queen, and Led Zepp. This was part of the Sunflower Superjam, a British charity. Hope you’ll give your ears a taste of this excellent rendition.

Alright, stay pos and master Wednesday. It’s all downhill for the rest of the week. Just a pause to shout out to my late FIL. Passing in 1991 when he was 65, he would be 97 this year. Still miss him. You know what he liked? Coffee and fishing. In his honor, I’ll have a cup of coffee, thanks.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

The sun bulled its way over the horizon and into Ashlandia’s sky a few ticks before six AM. It’s Tuesday, May 9, 2023, and 45 degrees F out there. Rain deliveries through the past five days have encouraged the town to show off multiple greens. Jade, emerald, pine, leafy, grassy — the greens flourish under the immaculately blue sky. Not promising anything, the weather criers say, but it’ll be in the upper sixties today. The sun’s end time in Ashlandia’s environs will be after eight this evening.

Went walking yesterday, a favorite pastime. Two miles, one and a half of it in steady rain. Lovely. Got home wet with rain and sweat. Lovely. Felt good to be back in the rain and feel the sweat dripping and rolling, plastering my hair under my hat.

I continue scoring on the dream front. Last night brought visits from Sean Penn and Brad Pitt. Woke up chuckling to myself, mumbling, that was a great dream. Then I went through it, writing it all down after I got up, one of three dreams covered in today’s dream journal entry.

The cats are adjusting to the improved weather. So are other cats. Thus there was floof showdown on the front porch. A young gray cat has been showing up around the neighborhood for the last two months. Seems healthy, but just going around doing feline business. They’ve encountered Papi the ginger wonder before, but apparently last night was a surprise for the two and face to face. It’s post event speculation for us. We only know that the floof warnings went off like air-raid sirens for the Battle of Britain. Dashing to the front door, we saw the two. Of course, Tucker, the black and white lord of thunder heard it all and galloped out, too, shouting, “To battle.” Seeing the situation, gray cat departed. Papi pursued but lost the trail. He and Tucker took up stations to ensure they’d be there, should the interloper return.

Today’s music comes from “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel”. We’ve been watching it recently and have plowed into the third season. The song, by the Poppy Family, is “Where Evil Grows” and was put out over fifty years ago. I heard it on the radio a few times back then before it disappeared. But it shows up on television shows and movies once in a while, never on the radio, that I ever hear. Anyway, hearing it enlivened The Neurons, and they plugged it into the morning mental music stream, advertising it as nostalgia. The song’s writer is Terry Jacks, better known for “Which Way You Going, Billy” and “Seasons in the Sun”.

Ah, the train is rolling through, tooting its own horn, ensuring everyone is aware of its royal self as it rumbles through town. Stay pos, keep living the good life and fighting the good fight, wherever it may take you. My efforts are taking me to the coffee. Here’s the tune. Give it a listen. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

I’m counting down the days to Friday. This is Friday, so Friday’s a week away. Seven days. Then I’ll be counting down again.

Calendars help that. Instead of counting down to Friday, we count down to a date. Today is May 5, 2023, Cinco de Mayo. There will be some joy and celebration going on, parties and drinking and eating. Socializing. Dancing. Then we resume the countdown to the next special date. Mother’s Day, I think, in ‘Merica. May 14, 2023. Although several family birthdays are between now and then.

Spring is firmly in control this week. The cats are enjoying it, in the mid-forties at night, fifties to sixties during the day, a little dribble of rain. Early sunrise, late sunset. Blossoms out, leaves returning, people ogling trees’ pink and whites, exclaiming, “Aren’t they pretty?”

Feeling a little tired today. A dream flotilla sailed on and on through the night. Out of nowhere this morning, The Who were summoned by The Neurons to perform “You Better You Bet” (1981) in my morning mental music stream. The Neurons aren’t admitting to anything about why the ’81 song is playing.

Coffee is in order. Breakfast — oatmeal with nuts, seeds, raisins, and cranberries — has been et, along with a pinwheel pastry which my wife made, puff pastry and honey with crushed walnuts and pistachios. Most tasty.

Stay pos. Keep counting the days. Cheers

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Floof Fog

Floof Fog (floofinition) – Human mental condition when worries or activities involving an animal prevents them from thinking of, doing, or recalling other matters.

In use: “She had a list of things to do but succumbed to floof fog when she sat down to read a book and the cat jumped up and joined her. Floof fog set in and the two were soon snuggling and asleep.”

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Using my keen powers of deduction, I observed that yesterday was Tuesday. Therefore, today must be Wednesday.

I reported my results to the chief. She downed whisky-infused black coffee that was probably brewed before the first Gemini rocket launch and gave me a gimlet eye. “Not bad, rookie.”

Today is Wednesday, 5/3/2023. The temperature God is blessing us with a 47 F temperature. The rain God is misting us off and off, while the sun God winks in and out behind the cloud God’s offerings. “We expect it to reach 65 today,” a weather dude tells me on the QT. A little after six bells was rung, the sun rolled over Ashlandia’s horizon albeit beyond a cloud wall. We’ll hear eight bells in the evening before the sun lives us in her wake.

The felines have been fed, and approve of their morning meal. It’s a wet meal enlivened with a few tablespoons of warm water. They love the combo. Tucker’s repast includes his meds. In fact, that’s how the warm morning meal was established, by medicating previous cats who needed meds but battled taking them.

Gordon Lightfoot passed this week. The Canadian musician/singer/songwriter’s end of life probably isn’t news to you, but the knowledge was swirling around in my thoughts, along with weather observations, so The Neurons spooned “Early Morning Rain” by GL into my morning mental music stream. A vote was taken with the cats and it was chosen as today’s theme music.

Coffee is almost done as I’m behind schedule this morning, a victim of helping a friend. Stay pos, and be the master of your domain. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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Flooftalk

Flooftalk (floofinition) – 1. Speaking done by animals.

In use: “The dog, cat, and birds engaged in flooftalk — the fish may have been saying something, too, for they were avidly eyeing the scene from inside their aquarium — but Brenda had no idea of the topic, looking for intruders and seeing nothing, even as she asked the animals, “What is it? What are you guys talking about?” Like most flooftalk which she overheard, she never learned what was being discussed.”

2. Imperfect or altered manner of speech people use in addressing animals.

In use: ‘Her dog greeted her with a polite bark and heavy tail wagging. “Did you miss me, boy?” Jill replied in flooftalk, bending to pet the pug. “Who’s a good dog? Who’s a pretty dog?”‘

3. Conversations about animal health and behavior, or about observations regarding animals.

In use: “A flooftalk broke out every evening as Mitchell shared with Kevin the latest humorist episode of their foster cats.”

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