Loveser(floofinition) – Animal slang or floof slang (flang) about an animals who is serious but loving. Origins: Internet circa 2024.
In Use: “The big dog was never seen to play and earned a rep as a loveser, hanging with his people, tolerating other animals, never barking or whining, but frequently wagging his tail.”
In Use: “In the clowder of six kittens, gray furred Penelope was a solemn big-eyed cutie, soon revealing herself as a loveser, preferring a comfortable lap with a few scratches around her chin and ears over kitten games.”
Just took my first shower since October 30th. Don’t know if others are as binary as me on this, but I’m a firmly committed shower guy. Baths in a tub will only do if a shower is out of the question.That felt so good. Washed my hair and everything. Had been doing that in a sink, with help from a measuring cup to pour water over all of my head. It worked but it wasn’t satisfying.
Well, when I was booted up, showers were out of the question. Had to keep that sucker completely dry. Which meant it was bagged in plastic and resting outside of the tub. That forced for into additional contortions and requirements. My wife had to be my hands while I held myself up with my foot out of the tub. My remaining bandage and wound could be damp but not wet, and I was to keep soap off it. So I showered with the affected foot thrust out like I was a posing dancer. Then I had to pat dry the affected area.
Let me say this: we have a standard tub. Just one out of the two baths. The other bath has a shower stall. That tub isn’t large enough for mature adults. I mentioned this to my wife. She replied, “I’ve already decided that my tub in our next house is going to be bigger and deeper.”
Brigfloofading(floofinition) Animals coordinating together to cause chaos or disrupt activities. Origins: Internet, 2021
In Use: “People forced to work at home often share net tales about brigfloofgading, when their housepets come together in mock combat to distract them from whatever they’re doing.”
Monday began with my wife’s comment. “If you think yesterday was crappy, wait until you see today. It’s crappier.”
“Why?”
“Cold fog and rain all around us. There’s no sun at all.”
It’s November 17, 2024. Thanksgiving in the U.S. is just a lick away as fall’s descent toward winter continues. 35 F now, it feels like 42 they tell us, but the day’s high will be 36 F. Hope it can feel like 60.
Voting with their legs, the cats agreed with my wife’s assessment. Papi went on exploratory runs but soon returned, pounding on the front door glass. A trip to the refueling station followed, and then it was off to sleep out the day.
I’m close to doing the same. Foot/ankle much better, just twinges and spikes of pain and discomfort, with brief squalls of swelling.
“Still Alive and Well” had been voted in by The Neurons as today’s theme music. The ’73 Johnny Winters song was on a live album I enjoyed as a budding young adult and has housed itself in my morning mental music stream (Trademark still streaming).
Coffee has been ingested. Be strong, get positive, hold fast. Here we go.
October’s penultimate day has arrived. Wednesday, October 30, 2024. Less than a week until the election.
It’s a pretty autumn sunrise, a potpourri offering of soft, long clouds decked in faded blues shading into gray, and puffier masses of white with a brooding gray venture. Blue sky is dabbled in with random ideas. Sunrise flecks through in the east, delivering sunshine, lining some urban pieces of buildings, trees, lines, and poles with decorative golden outlines. They come and go in blinks as clouds restlessly shuffle.
My systems declare that it’s 37 F outside the windows. The high will be 51 F. Maybe 52. Maybe 50.
Papi the ginger blade has gone in and out, his testament to the fact that it’s pleasant but cold. Rain…might be coming but buckets won’t be used for the delivery. Scattered and light, I think it’ll be more like we’re being sprayed with cheap water pistols. The kind we used to buy at GC Murphys. They looked like Lugers. Came in red, yellow, green, and blue. I never saw a purple one.
Happy birthday, Dad! Called him Monday and gave him birthday wishes. Thinking of him with fondness today.
My ankle surgery is scheduled today. I feel good. Slept well. A med team rep called yesterday to update schedules and arrangements. I was informed I could have coffee and water until 8:15 AM. So this morning, I rose, made coffee, and chugged that puppy down. Also drank about sixteen ounces of water. I’m happily wired and hydrated. Getting hungry, though. My stomach is used to being served early. Now it’s raising a grumpy head to mutter about being in need of a little something something. Hush, I tell it. Not today.
I start thinking of Wednesday songs.
“Wednesday I’m in Love”
“Wednesday Afternoon”
“I Don’t Like Wednesdays”
“Wednesday Nights (Alright for Fighting)”
“Wednesday Morning Coming Down”
“Pleasant Valley Wednesday”
Yes, none of those are Wednesday songs. They’re for Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays.
Only one Wednesday-themed tune eventually drifts out of memory and breaks through the waves of thinking. Called “Wednesday,” more time is needed to summon bits out of other regions of memory. A melody begins, an instrument is weakly heard, pieces of lyrics pop up. More comes together with a little straining. Suddenly there comes a solid female voice. Identification takes a few more minutes.
Oh. Tori Amos. “Wednesday”. Can’t recall what year. More time passes. I drift into thinking about other matters as the cats ask for treats and my wife and I chat. Then The Neurons begin playing more of the reflective Wednesday ditty in the morning mental music stream (Trademark Wednesday). I finally search online to hunt down the full tune. This vexes Der Neurons. “No, no, give us more time,” they shout. “We’ll get it, we’ll get it.”
I spurn their protests. Sure, they’ll get, but it’ll arrive about two AM. I want it now. Those words briefly trigger Queen singing, “I want it all, and I want it now.”
Stay positive, be fresh, remain calm, and carry on. Coffee has carried me to my happy place. Here’s the music. Remember, vote blue. Have a good Wednesday.
Floofplosion (floofinition) – An animal’s rapid or spectacular bursting out or forth via sound or activity. Origins: 1682
In Use: “People with cats have frequently witnessed ‘the zoomies’, an unexpected floofplosion where a cat races around an area at top speed, often with sharp braking and random sudden turns, not infrquently accompanied with bold, loud noises.”
In Use: “After she acquired a labrador, Taylor discovered the young female was prone to floofplosions, racing around the fenced backyard lap after lap for up to twenty minutes at a time.”
Flooftet (floofinition) – Small group of animals of different species, sizes, and ages. A flooftet is considered more than two but less than nine. Origins: Internet, circa 2015.
In Use: “When Maria entered the living room, she discovered a flooftet looking at her. The bird and rabbit seemed floofchalant, but the cats and dogs wore guilty expressions, as if she’d caught them plotting.”
In Use: “Movies about flooftets, such as Homeward Bound: the Incredible Journey from 1993, often attract audiences who enjoy warm and humorous adventure romps starring animals.”
Michael Seidel, writer 