Floofgetfulness(floofinition) – A condition where things are forgotten or not done because of an animal.
In Use: “He was planning to vacuum the living room carpet but the little kitten was deeply asleep and looked so sweet, he couldn’t bear to disturb the floof and decided he’d do it later. Then floofgetfunless slipped in, and the vacuuming was not done at all.”
In Use: “Enduring a splash of floofgetfulness, Connor left his sandwich out, giving his dog an opportunity to help herself.”
Recent Use: “Demonstrating the profound floofgetfulness of a newby puppy owner, Maurice left the puppy running free in the house while he ran to a store for a few items, and returned to a disaster zone.”
It’s Friday, it’s Febrary 9, it’s still 2024, it’s 40 F and it’s unrelenting cloudy. Layers of clouds, deepest dark in the forefront, light gray white serving as background, all blocking blue sky and warm sun. Sprinter has yielded back to winter. High will be a sweltering 43 F.
They’re masking the house today to begin painting tomorrow. I’m surprised by the conditions they work in, cold and rainy. But if it works, it works. We have two good guys, Brad and Gary, from Rick Stevens painting doing the work. They’re thorough and hardworking, clear professionals who have mastered the processes. Fun cheering them on toward the finish.
The weather has the cats playing in-out-in, a very popular game among floofs. Papi excels. Tucker took one turn, came back in, and headed for the bedroom and sleep. Papi, though, played at least five rounds, taking time between rounds to request food and pets. He’s a sweet little stinker.
I’m late with posting today. A few weeks ago, I wrote a little bit around a prompt about someone named Darla. I shared it with a few friends. They loved it and pestered me to write more. That wasn’t in my plans but I kept thinking about it, playing out different trajectories and concepts, etc. Today I awoke with more Darla in mind. I built out a long scene and then sat at the ‘puter and typed. With a few pauses to dress, eat, talk to the painters and my wife, and drive to the coffee shop, I wrote twenty pages today. It just kept pulling me along. Love writing days like this.
Songwise, nothing was homethere until I thought about the drive to write that piece after I stopped writing. Then The Neurons punted “Got to Get You Into My Life” into the no-longer-morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks, I promise). I guess The Neurons thought the song was playing into my writing urge. Well, okay.
This Beatle song was released in 1966, when I was ten. Paul McCartney wrote it, and in this video, he performs it at the White House for President Barack Obama, Michelle Obama, and a few guests in 2014.
Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and register and vote. That’s all I ask, except for coffee, security, kidness to animals, etc. Here’s the music.
Déjà Floof(floofinition) 1. An animal who reminds people or other animals of another animal.
In Use: “When she saw the kitten available for adoption, Rose experienced déjà floof, because the little character looked just like her old cat, Smudge, which she’d lost the year before.”
Recent Use: “Papi looked nothing like Quinn but the way Papi sometimes behaved frequently triggered déjà floof.”
2. A sense of experiencing or enduring an event with an animal that happened before.
In Use: “The sequence of his dog’s declining health triggered déjà floof for Bob, who dreaded what he knew was going to come.”
Recent Use: “Déjà floof descended on Brenda when she saw her husband notice the hungry young stray cats. Animals in need were always finding him, reducing him to a big softy ready to do everything to save them.”
Hello, fellow travelers through time and space. Welcome to Thursday, February 8, 2024.
It’s a cold day here, despite sunshine. The weather is deftly nicking us with a cold and sharp northern wind. Growling crowds are creeping in, darkening and getting fat. Rain is expected later this afternoon. It’s now 42 F, not far off from our expected high of 44 F.
Although keeping up with news, I don’t feel up to commenting on anything, so pressin’ on. Today’s theme music is brought to you by Nickelback. “Gotta Be Somebody” was released in 2008. The Neurons let it loose in my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) after I experienced deja vu when I stepped outside and breathed in the cold but fresh air this morning. Soaking in sunlight, watching the cats regarding the yard, I thought, I remember days like this from previous years. It was a marvelously bittersweet few minutes. Thinking, déjà vu, The Neurons pumped in more of NIckelback’s song:
It’s just like déjà vu, me standing here with you So I’ll be holding my breath Could this be the end? Is it that moment when I find the one that I’ll spend forever with?
‘Cause nobody wants to be the last one there ‘Cause everyone wants to feel like someone cares Someone to love with my life in their hands There’s gotta be somebody for me like that ‘Cause nobody wants to do it on their own (Their own) And everyone wants to know they’re not alone (Not alone) There’s somebody else that feels the same somewhere (The same somewhere) There’s gotta be somebody for me out there
h/t to AZLyrics.com
Keep leaning forward, be strong, stay positive, and register and vote, right? Coffee has blessed my esophagus; time to move on with other activities. Here’s the music. Cheers
My wife and I received another round of COVID=19 vaccinations yesterday. We agreed that one kicked us harder than the others.
We received them at 11 AM. Other than pain and stiffness at the injection site, all was going well. After meeting with friends for beers in the late afternoon, I returned home and exercised. Then, about 10 PM, it seemed like someone encased my body in concrete. My newfound stiffness stunned me. Reaching down, sitting down, standing up, movement of any kind was met with defiant resistance.
Next, cold invaded my body. It reminded me of being in Korea one winter. Heavy shivering gripped me. My hands and feet felt so cold, I stuck my hands down my shorts against my groin to warm them and gasped at the shock of my cold hands. I normally sashay through the house in gym shorts and a tee shirt. Now I applied additional layers, including socks. Socks! The indignation. Then came headaches and a mild fever. I woke up at one point soaked with sweat.
Meanwhile though, I dreamed when I slept. I was heading a horizon. Tall, dark walls were being erected. That’s my protection against COVID-19, I told myself. I had variations of that dream three times during the night. The walls were different each time. In the second dream, I said, “I need bigger, stouter walls, taller walls.” Someone — a male — replied, “They’re coming.”
All three of these dreams were short. They felt like they were less than a minute, and in each, it was only me, darkening skies, and protective walls.
Hearing something — can’t even saw what it was — today when I was in the coffee shop writing, I suddenly see a forgotten dream from last night. Really, just a shard. First person personal point of view, I’m driving in a car along a winding country highway. Leafy green trees blur by on either side. It sometimes seems like someone is with me but that’s inconsistent. I mostly seem to be alone.
Everything is going smoothly. I’m on a long road trip. Ahead is where I’m going to leave the country highway and jump onto the Interstate. The first road is climbing and turning. I split off. Cresting a ridge, the on-ramp veers left and goes down a steep hill and into intense banking as the ramp joins the Interstate and the Interstate goes left. Sunshine bathes the cars and roadway.
I won’t be on this road long, just a few miles. As I hit the banked curve and merge with the traffic, I press the brake pedal and recognize, I’m not slowing. Speed picks up despite greater pressure on the pedal. I announce, “I don’t have any brakes.” Someone in the other seat replies, “What?”
I repeat what I said and lean their way. But no one occupies the seat. I mutter, “I’m not on the road long. My exit is just ahead.” I can see it, a long, lean hill that ends at an intersection with a traffic light. “But I’m going to need to stop. I’ll add some brake fluid when I can. I think that’ll fix it. First, though, I need to stop.”
The car hits the exit ramp. It’s flying over bumps. Grinning, beginning to laugh, I kick out the floorboard. “Just do it like Fred Flintstone.” I put my feet down onto the cement road. Pressing the soles down with all my strength, I drag the car to a stop.
Floof Rocket(floofinition) – A stunningly fast animal. Origins: United States, 1980s
In Use: “Each kitten displayed unique attributes, but the little female initially called Ruth Bader Kitsburg soon revealed she was a floof rocket, surprising everyone with her explosive speed.”
In Use: “After climbing the fence, it was like the beagle was catapulted away as his owner shrieked for Chester to stop.”
Recent Use: “Claire loved getting into the fenced backyard, becoming a floof rocket with the zoomies.”
Mood: Optimungry. Yes, that’s that unique set of feelings of being strongly hopeful but very hungry.
Hey, all you Solsters*. Another day worth of declaring winter is still here. Up to 37 F now, and rain continues putting its shine on everything as the sun toils behind a thick stack of clouds. 46 F is the purported high for our neck of the valley.
Wednesday, Feb 7, 2024, has descended on Ashlandia without pomp or ceremony. Nothing special to write about it here in Ashlandia, but sometimes, nothing special is good. Everyone is going about their business and nobody is veering into another’s path to make their life difficult. The furnace is heating our house’s air, the cats have staked out their nap sites, and the neighborhood is quiet, even still. No people, machinery, birds, or dogs are heard. Grant’s Tomb is noisier.
Heading off to get our latest COVID-19 vaccination shortly. Finishing my coffee first. My wife is hosting her book club tonight, and I’m attending a brewery with a of friends. Meeting with them satisfies my need to socialize, have a beer with friends, discuss news, politics, etc, and keep close to remaining sane. I’m looking forward to discussing the ruling by the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit that Donald Trump isn’t above the law as a former POTUS, including actions he took while in office. The unanimous ruling by the three-judge panel validated what I remembered learning about the Federal government and the checks and balance system while in school. Now we’ll see if the SCOTUS gets involved, and if so, how they rule. Interesting days still ahead.
Today’s song is “Foolin'” by Def Leppard from 1983. The Neurons planted the song in my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) when I rhetorically asked of someone else, “Who do they think they’re foolin’?” Presto chango the song launched. I complain about earworms or involuntary musical imagery (INMI), but it doesn’t bother me much. I consider them an amusing process within my mental faculties. I’ve learned through research that 1 in 5 people experience an earworm a day, but they don’t usually lost long, just a few minutes. I’ve always wonder if experiencing and remembering vivid dreams are related to experiencing earworms as I do, and if it’s something in my mental processes and neural paths. At the same time, while I’ve always had a natural tendency for dreams, I began working to remember them when I was in my early teens and started keeping dream journals. Likewise, when I experience an earworm, I don’t often try shutting them down, but instead strive to recall all the details about my experience with the song.
If you’re still reading, you’re probably muttering, “Enough about you.” I agree. Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, register and vote. I’m trying for the same. Here’s the music. Cheers
* Solster: person who lives on a world dependent on the star called Sol.
Good morning, fellow planet dwellers. It’s time again for Tuesday. As a first (as far as I know, but you know how tricky memory can be), this Tuesday is on February 6, 2024.
It’s a sunny day here in Ashlandia, where the coffee is strong and fresh. Not warm, though. Rain cooled the night and more rain is sashaying our way. 40 F now, today’s high will take us all the way up to 45 F. Even so, with the sun and the front that moved in, it feels 48 F right now. That’s weather for you. While many parts of this region are suffering from storms brought on by atmo rivers, quirks of mountains and the jet stream protects us from those streams, basically pushing the rivers around Ashland.
Painters have been scrapping the house in prep for painting it. Tucker, black and white floof, doesn’t care; he ate and went to bed, but he is an older feller, a young elder as felines go. Papi is just middle-aged. Papi was out when the painters arrived, sitting on our walk as they parked. I tried calling him in, but Papi had to sit down and watch the painters, neck craning, body leaning forward, as they went about meeting, talking, and getting out equipment.
Papi is always like that: ‘I must know what’s going on but I also must get the heck out of here.’ Curiosity wins, though. He and the dog that lives across the fence in our backyard share mutual animosity. Whenever Papi goes out, day or night, he first turns and stares at that wall for his nemesis. His stance and appearance is like a gunslinger at high noon in the wild west, with his eyes narrowing into an angry squint.
Just finished reading Annieasksyou’s post about the resistance.I’ve shared it on my blog and Facebook, and recommend it as a read. It picked up my spirits because mass media and its commercialized, monetized mentality works hard to keep it an interesting ‘horse race’. They want everyone to believe that Trump is slightly ahead, and wonder, can President Biden overtake him? What are all the things going President Biden, they constantly frame it.
For those reasons and more, I’m dubious of polls. I think many people use it as a space to complain and don’t always indicate how they will vote. Just my feel about it; they think they’re turning up the flame by being negative. Secondly, Democrats keep winning the popular vote but lose in the Electoral College. Do the polls reflect that aspect of how the vote will go?
On to today’s theme music. The Neurons apparently think that I need to complete the “Lady” song trilogy that came to me the other day. Jill D. began it with Lionel Richie singing “Lady” (written by Kenny Rogers). The Neurons countered with the Little River Band and “Lady”. But circulating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) is “Lady” by Styx. Released in 1973, it was Styx’s second hit, and goes full rock ballad.
Remain positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote. Are you registered? One of Oregon’s many things to admire is that as soon as you get a DL in our state, you’re registered to vote, and it’s all mail-in.
Coffee has been sucked up. Here’s the music. Carpe diem. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 