Someday’s Theme Music

Someday has come. Without work, without church, without routines save the one to get out and write again, my world has a narrow scope. Days on end seem the same, domino pieces with the same number of dots in the same order. Specifics like weather change, sometimes adding to the experience. Anyway, we’re planning a cruise — well, looking for one — after putting it off for a few years due to COVID. Just a small cruise, right, to feel the ocean’s roll and look at the expanse and remind myself how tiny I am. We’ll still working on our moving plans, but that’s going to consume a lot of energy. I’m not deeply into it yet.

It’s Sunday, Feb 5, 2023. Breakfast was already consumed, a bit of cantaloup and a cinnamon raisin bagel, and the coffee was drunk. News has been perused. Rain fell through the night, replenishing more local reservoirs and cisterns. Snow accumulates in the snowpack. 40 F now, under a gray crown, looking for 50 later. Sunrise and sunset are 7:20 AM and 5:30 PM. Celebrating a friend’s new grandchild, number four for him. He and his family are very pleased. I’m happy and excited because they’re happy and excited. It’s contagious stuff.

Didn’t sleep well, dealing with floofquests to go in and out, to be fed and petted, loved on and played with. They don’t want to recognize that I’m a day creature. “Come join us at night,” they urge.

“It’s dark and I can’t see,” I reply.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help you. Mind that hairball. It’s fresh.”

A bright moon was a break-out hit at one point. Outside with Papi, enjoying the fresh rain-enlivened air, Papi said, “See? There’s plenty of light. What is that over there? What the hell, I’m out of here.” He scurried back, leaving me standing there and staring, mumbling to myself, “What is it? I don’t see anything. Papi? Papi?”

I was also wringing hands over editing decisions and book directions, cursing my novel as a vile creature that needs to be buried. It’s all good, just the process. A looonnngggg process sometimes. Out of this, The Neurons have directed a song from the last century into the morning mental music stream. “Epic” by Faith No More was released in 1990. I was still assigned to Germany at the time, and the song was hugely popular with the troops rotating in as part of Desert Shield/Desert Storm. It was heard often and loud.

Here’s the music. Stay pos and enjoy Sunday as best as you can. I will. Sort of. Cheers.

Polyfloofdron

Polyfloofdron (floofinition) – A collection of several animals doing activities, such as sleeping or nursing.

In use: “After eating, grooming, and playing, the dog, cat, and kittens came together as a polyfloofdron on a bench cushion in the fur-melting sun.”

Saturday’s Wandering Thought

Websites seemed to be growing worse. Almost since the inception of the web, there was clickbait, slugs, ledes, and headlines to invite surfers to click and browse. Too many of these were outright misleading, trying to sensationalize political divisions and celebrity behavior.

Grammar declines. Punctuation mistakes, yes, and typos, which can happen, but some sentences are read several times before the fact is accepted that the sentence is I&I – incomplete and incoherent.

Now, bad links are blooming. Click on a link and it takes you to the wrong place. Is hijacking back? It seems like just weak execution. Whatever it is, it’s another modern, first-world annoyance.

Don’t get him started on the pathetic search results which are often returned.

Pawzer

Pawzer (floofinition) – Floof term for a large and powerful individual, essentially comparing them to a German Panzer tank from the WWII era.

In use: “Encountering Bruno, the big dog which the kittens were to live with, all reacted to the pawzer with spitting and hissing, claws drawn, daring him to come closer. Though Bruno looked like a pawzer, he was sweet and relaxed, settling on the floor. Within a short while, the cats were using him as a mountain to play.”

Today’s Wandering Thought

He liked creating games out of the things he did. Arriving at the coffee shop, he noted the parked cars. The game was, ‘Whose Car is This?’ He liked matching cars with the individuals inside.

Another regular game was Sock Toss when he put clothes away after the laundry was done. He had a .600 average.

The oddest game was probably sneak up on the cats. Tucker wasn’t included much any longer. He was old and slept deeply. Papi was his usual target, but the little ginger usually moved ears and lifted his head to smile at him before he was within three feet. Papi knew the game, and he always won.

Tuesday’s Wandering Thought

“Listen,” he said. “I need to eat now. See, I need to take of myself so I can take care of you. Who will take care of you if I’m not here?”

The cat meowed back.

He wasn’t sure if his message was received.

Fabfloofist

Fabfloofist (floofinition)1. Someone who makes up stories about animals.

In use: “Sarah was just three years old, but she was already a fabfloofist, regaling her relatives with adventure tales featuring the family’s cat and dog.”

Floof Over Matter

Floof Over Matter (Often abbreviated as FOM or F.O.M.) (floofinition) 1. Ad hoc policy that a household or organization’s care of animals is paramount.

In use: “He planned to make some changes in the house, but they were immediately terminated because of F.O.M., as his wife said, ‘You can’t do that. It’ll upset the cats and dogs.’ He could have argued that, but they’d been married over a quarter of a century. He understood floof over matter. It was only the floofs and their health and happiness who mattered most.”

2. Magic talents used by animals to make the impossible appear to happen.

In use: “She never understood how her cat got into the places which seemed impossible. Then she read a blog post about F.O.M. — Floof Over Matter — and began to understand that animals had powers which were beyond human comprehension.”

Sunday’s Wandering Thought

My cat, Tucker, has developed a method of meowing without opening his mouth. Lately, the sound coming out sometimes sounds like he’s saying my name, “Michael. Michael.” Today, after I put food into his bowl, it sounded like he said, “Thank you.”

I’m awaiting further developments.

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