- My wife is feeling guilty. I’m a Pittsburgh Steelers fan. Because I live in Oregon now, I’ve also adopted the Seattle Seahawks to watch. That’s mostly because their games are frequently broadcast in the area (wonder why…). Anyway, back when Russ was cooking and the Steelers were 11-0, my wife started cheering for the two teams. Everything went downhill from there… She blames herself. Doesn’t help that she’s also a Patrick Mahomes fan. She was cheering for him. Then yesterday, during the playoffs, he hits the ground and is concussed and out. Yes, she blames herself. Says its bad luck for her to cheer for any team or person. Hmmm…maybe she should stop rooting for me to get published…
- Got a message from a FB friend. I didn’t know the name. Message just said, “Hi.” I thought, bull; you’re not my friend. I checked their FB page. Nothing there, you know, except a photo who I think is Paul Hollywood from a few years ago.
- We’ve been receiving spates of calls from our area code. They’re numbers that we don’t recognize. From years of conditioning, we don’t answer the phone unless we know the number. Going further, I’ve assigned family members specific ringtones so I know it’s them when the phone rings. When we check out these numbers doing reverse look up, they often turn out to be foreign numbers. They seem to be linked to a new scam going around.
- It seems like there’s a new scam on the phone, net, or in politics every week.
- Speaking of politics, I’m not going to write about it. I’m weary of this mess that’s arisen in the U.S. with normal people believing outlandish things. Then there’s the things that outlandish people believe. They really stretch sanity’s perimeters. I think such people are searching for a force to give their lives meaning. I do the same with my writing (and posting). It’s a structure for my existence; I wouldn’t be surprised if their deep hold on crazy ideas and its supporting community (or tribe) isn’t the same for them.
- This week’s soup is again the root soup — roasted broccoli, carrots, potatoes, and garlic put into a mushroom broth and simmered with seasoning. Awesome for winter. Just add good bread.
- We picked up some VitaCup infused coffee on sale during a ninja shopping venture last week. We’re both surprised how good this turmeric and cinnamon coffee concoction is. It’s become our go-to choice. That’s especially startling for me; I’ve always been a French or Italian roast sort of person, dark with no sugar, cream, milk, etc. I will acknowledge that I was/am a mocha drinker. When I did them, it was four shots of espresso, then add a little chocolate, and steamed milk. Quit doing those; bad for my prostate.
- Still averaging twelve miles per day walking, according to Fitbit. I’m dubious.
- Over in streamland, we’re enjoying “Snowpiercer” (the series) and “Doom Patrol”. Both are on HBO Max. I especially like “Snowpiercer” as it fleshes out things in better ways than the movie did. I’m a train fan, and this idea appeals to my sci-fi infused imagination.
- On WordPress, it always bugs me that when Post comes up on the right, there is a red button that says, “Move to trash”. It’s like they’re making a suggestion about what I’m writing to post, you know?
- I’m also watching “The Wire” again. Been years since I’ve seen it but the characters (and actors), storylines, and plots (and twists) all remain clear in memory. I still enjoy it because it has great values and terrific acting. The characters all have sharp human edges and avoid being stereotypes (although McNulty is pretty close to one as a functioning alcoholic who cares), and we care about them all, good people and bad.
- Got my coffee (yes, it’s the infused stuff). Time to write like crazy, at least one more time. Almost ready for the characters to put Arsehold into the rearview mirror. Fingers crossed, you know?
Floofbinger (floofinition) – Behavior or signs by animals that foreshadows a future event or that gives an anticipatory indication of what’s to come.
In use: “The house beagles woke up, sat up, and broke out in howls, a floofbinger that emergency vehicles and their sirens would soon be heard.”
Bon Floofvi (floofinition) – Headlining floof rock band. Formed in Floof Jersey in 1983, they achieved significant success in 1984, but stormed to global fame with their third album, Slippery When Floof. The band announced it was recording its fifteenth album in 2020.
In use: “Bon Floofvi’s 1986 song, “You Give Vets A Bad Name”, which became the band’s first number one hit in the Floofnited States.”
Uriah Floof (floofinition) – Floofish hard floof rock (flock) band formed in 1969 in London, Floofland.
In use: “Two of Uriah Floof’s better known songs are “Floofy Livin'” and “Floof Lorraine”, which were both released in 1972.”
Trifloofulate (floofinition) – To surround a person or another animal with three other animals.
In use: “When Michael moved to the dining room, he discovered that the cats had trifloofulated around him.”
Homeofloofsis (floofinition) – A relatively stable group of animals of different species, breeds, or personalities.
In use: “Pet owners usually need some cooperation from their in-residence fur friends to achieve homeofloofsis.”
A friend posted on FB about her clothes getting stuck on door handles. Another responded, “their way of telling you to slow down and reflect”.
That nudged my mind into singing, “Slow down, you move too fast. You got to make the morning last.”
Then Simon & Garfunkel began performing “The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)” from 1971. I’m sharing it with you to dislodge it from my mind. Please sing along.
Black Eyed Floofs (floofinition) – Floof hop group formed in Los Floofgelos in 1995. Although significant success wasn’t achieved until their third album in 2003, they have become one of the best-selling floof groups of all time and performed at Superfloof XLV in 2011.
In use: “The Black Eyed Floofs’ song, “Boom Boom Paw” was the group’s first number one, followed by “I’ve Gotta Itchy”, spent fourteen weeks at number one in the Floofnited States, both in 2009.”
My sitcom dreams continued last night. In one, I was with a coven of witches. Although we met in a dim environment where wine and munchies were being served, we were all ordinary-looking people in jeans and casual wear. Maybe it was casual day for witches.
I was there to be taught. Most of the dream is too low res for faithful recollection but at one point, I had an epiphany. This was during the curses portion of the training. When they were being revealed to me, I was privy for a moment of curses that’d been used recently. And there was a surprise. I saw the first snap of the Steelers-Brown playoff game, the fiasco on which the Browns scored a defensive touchdown and unleashed a scoring tsunami. “Oh my God. The Steelers were cursed. That’s why they lost them to the Browns. Who cursed them?”
‘Who’ wasn’t revealed, but I laughed about it in my dream. Part of me even speculated, oh, wishful thinking by my subconscious.
Though I’ve thought about it, nothing deeper ever emerged. I have just that one lasting impression: the Steelers were cursed.
On Wednesday, I mentioned a couple of my recent dreams to my wife. She shook her head; “You’re on another plan with those dreams. I have no idea what’s going on.”
Yeah, I often have that feeling about my dreams, but many of them reassure and inspire me. Not so the dreams of Wednesday and Thursday nights. Of the silly variety, I call them my sitcom dreams. Along with what I call my ‘episodic adventure dreams’, the sitcom dreams happen regularly. There’s always a string of them. Although they amuse me, I rarely post about them.
For example, one dream last night had me attempting to feed two cats. The cats in question were Jade and Quinn. Quinn died two years ago after being with us for twelve years. Jade came to us on Okinawa and was with us for twenty-one years. Both were sweethearts, although Jade was furiously intelligent and willful.
In the dream, I was trying to feed these two in my backyard. I had a food bowl set up for them but they were crowding me, giving me the impression they were hungry. Naturally, I talked to them about it.
“Why are you asking me for food. There’s plenty of food in your bowl. Come on, I’ll” I led through the yard’s lush green grass back to their food bowl. “See?” I pointed. They hurried to their food bowl, sniffing, then turned to me in question. Puzzled, I went to the food bowl. Closer to it, I discovered that what I thought was cat kibble was sandwich wedges. Checking them out with surprise, I discovered they were stale.
“Sorry,” I told the cats. “Let me clean this up and then I’ll give you real food.”
As I was cleaning, putting the stale sandwiches to one side, a man and his family — neighbors — passed by, watching me as they went. I heard the father say to the rest, “He is burying the cats’ feces.” I smiled when I heard him but didn’t clarify what was going on.
That’s where that one ended. See what I mean? There were six or seven of these sort of dreams, about cars, technology, cats, and houses. While I take humor from them, I do acquire some deeper insights about myself from the sitcom dreams. I might be rationalizing what happens but I like it. Still, I’m looking forward to a return my normal dream programming.
I can always use reassuring.