Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
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.”
May 13. Saturday. 2023.
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.”
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
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.
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.
DOWNEY ACC, DOWNEY, CALIFORNIA
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
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
