Refloofstoration
Refloofstoration (floofinition) – Fixing or cleaning up after an animal, especially a housepet.
In Use: “Many people discover that having puppies or kittens requires a readiness for frequent refloofstoration as the little gems gain mobility and curiosity and storm around the house, exploring and sometimes damaging rooms.”
In Use: “Award-winning author Mara Buck often writes humorously about her dogs and their adventures, and her need for refloofstoration to put things right again.”
Recent Use: “Many social media posters are all about their rescue and fostering efforts, and the craziness and refloofstoration needed when their charges run amok.”
Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts
Just learned today that a good friend, a few years older than me, is suffering dementia. I’ve been through this with other friends in the last twenty years, so I’m loaded with expectations. Most of them aren’t good. But medical technology keeps advancing and I hope that my buddy and his family don’t endure what many others have gone through.
Fingers crossed, you know?
Tuesday’s Theme Music
Mood: Sunnymistic (sunshine fed optimism)
Hang on tight, fellow Terrans. It’s Tuesday, Jan. 30, 2024. We’re approaching the quadfecta of mid-week, mid-winter, end of month, and mid-quarter. These mids dominate as people and organizations assess where they want to be going compared to how their trajectory is shaping up. The year’s first quadfecta is daunting for some as they address resolutions introduced at the year’s beginning. Hope and optimism either take hits or they’re buoyed to new levels of encouragement.
Another sunny day in Ashlandia, where the buildings are old and the history is average. 64 F now, clouds are sneaking in and milling around, preparing to drop new rain later this afternoon. Temperatures are not expected to descend much below 50 F tonight, though. No word on more snow expected but lower temps are crawling our way later this week.
Papi inspired today’s theme music. Papi is my floofstar, a wondrous mix of furry ginger, cream, and orange fur, pink beans and nose, white whiskers and perfect triangle ears. Although a smart fellow, his friendliness is restrained by wariness and distrust. Whether that’s nature or previous interactions with humans isn’t certain.
I opened the front door to let him in. He did his usual thing, chirping hello at me, zipping an orbit around my legs with his tail up, furry side against my calves, and then whipped into a run on the hardwood floors through the house. Playing with him, I gave mock chase. Hearing me pounding up behind him, he spun into a slide to face me and then reproached me with a short but floofnest mew.
As soon as he slid, The Neurons sang, “Oh my my, oh my my, can you boogie, can you slide?” The 1974 Ringo Starr song launched fully into my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). Naturally I sang it to Papi as he sat beside me and I petted him. Then Tucker — my big black and white bruiser who used to be quite the fighter — meandered up to hear the singing and catch some strokes. Papi emitted a sharply enunciated meow and bolted off for the kibble bowl.
BTW, wouldn’t Kibble Bowl be a good name for a college bowl game? The Kibble Bowl by Purina, playing in the Floof Stadium in Kitty, Oregon. (I didn’t look it up, but I think I made up Kitty, Oregon.) Make sense when you have teams named the Oregon University Ducks and the Oregon State University Beavers. Someone somewhere should also name their teams for cats and dogs. Like, the Bangor Maine Coon Cats or the Jackson South Caroline Pit Bulls.
Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and vote. It’s an important election year, one which may require greater quantities of coffee. May as well start now. Here’s the music. Cheers
Monday’s Wandering Thought
I watched a young woman walking past the coffee shop. Wearing light-toned blue jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt, a dark blue ball cap let dark hair escape but was pulled low, like she was some manner of gunslinger from wild west days. It was her walk which struck me; her white shoes seemed to slap the concrete and she kept her head down, as though she had to concentrate like the Newman song, left foot, right foot, left foot, and so on.
That walk and style reminded me of someone I knew but no names came to mind. I’ve always been bad with names and faces.
Sunday’s Theme Music
Mood: spirited
Boom goes the sunshine.
Hello, fellow third-rockers. Sunday, January 28, 2024, has risen. That sun we’re orbiting has taken over the day. Last night at midnight, it was 57 degrees F; now it’s 65 F. No clouds are playing with the sunshine. Precipitation trickled off yesterday afternoon, giving us a glorious day which is way more spring than winter. It feels like 73 F, they tell us, and I agree. The cats and I were wholly astonished by this twist of warmth, though the cats didn’t stay outside because, wind, they whined. They no like wind. Today’s high will be 68 F.
Three US military troops were killed in a drone strike in the middle East, and so tit-for-tat will begin as President Biden promises retaliation sometime and somewhere. I understand the position but don’t like it: each nation, when attacked for whatever reason, promises to get back at the attackers because otherwise there’s a perception of weakness. All that spills into politics; if President B orders retaliation, he’s reviled by many, but if he doesn’t, he’s reviled by many. Striking the balance between the two is difficult. Then there’s the long game about broader theater escalation, and the impact of retaliation on trade, goods and services, and the political machinations outside of that region. It’s a messy, messy world.
In other news, Trump has decried the border deal (yawn) being circulated to protect the US southern border. I say yawn about this because everyone expected this move by Trump. The Wall Street Journal editorial board even warned him not to do that a few days ago, reminding him of the potential damage to the GOP brand in some many words in this election year when the Republicans are trying to offer proof that Democrats are weak on border security. But come on, man. Trump is the man who lost a case against Jean Carroll, but couldn’t stop slandering and defaming her, was tried again and lost in court, and now needs to pay her 83 million dollars. Yet, he continues the very activity which brought him to that point. Will there be another case for Carroll v. Trump? I’m willing to bet there will be, and that Trump will lose again, but continue his ways, because he has no self-control and doesn’t listen to any advice except his own.
“Rock On” by David Essex from 1973 occupies the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). I enjoyed the song as a youngster because of its interesting, unusual sound. It’s so minimalist, with echoes and unusual beats, and a truncated stream of thought riff on rock and roll and youth. It arrived today because, as a boomer, “Rock on,” is one of my go-to phrases, just as Trump’s screaming “FAKE NEWS” is one of his go-to phrases. I say “Rock on” in response to my wife when she says she’ll be over by the home decor section of a store. Naturally, Les Neuons, being the characters they arecranked up the song. It’s their nature and they rarely swerve from it.
Side note, another heavy barrage of dreams were experienced overnight. I’m still recovering from the previous night’s barrage. It did inspire the start of another novel with Quantum Voodoo as the working title, although I’m still editing one and just began writing another with the working title of Level 7, the corollary to the novel in progress being edited, Why.
Be strong, stay positive, and lean forward. Coffee is being consumed in the phantom drawing room. Sorry, virtual drawing room; it’s a new era. Here’s the music. Cheers
Comfloofible
Comfloofible (floofinition) – Capable of getting along with animals. Origins: 15th century Middle Floofish.
In Use: “Modern animals living in close proximity to humans have developed sophisticated instincts to find comfloofible humans , and their efforts have significantly helped reduce animal abuse.”
In Use: “Whenever animals find people who seem comfloofible, they shower the individuals with trust and affection, welcoming their touch.”
Recent Use: “The neglected dog, freed from abusive former owners, stayed withdrawn until just the right people entered and tested high on the comfloofible scale; then he was ready to leave and go home with someone.”
Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts
They were a couple, with those socks. Skin-tight, displaying every angle and curve of their ankles and feet — they both wore sandals on this warmish winter day — his socks were as golden as a Trump Towers sign, while hers were hot pink. Though he wore loose trousers and she wore capris, both garmets displayed a good six inches of their interesting socks.
They raised some questions, they did.
Saturday’s Theme Music
Mood: Dreamy
Hello, Terra dwellers, aka Terwellers.
Today is Saturday, January 27, 2024. This is January’s final Saturday; the month will soon be history and 2024 will be 1/12 done. Roughly.
Sprinter continues its reign in Ashlandia, where the dogs are happy and the cats are above average. We never dipped below 50 F last night. The weather dwarves, Windy, Sunny, Cloudy, and Rainy, continue their stay here. Foggy has departed but Warm and Blustery have joined us. 53 F now, today’s high will park in some zone just south of 60 F.
Ol’ Tucker. He’s my young elderly black and white floof. After feeding him and Papi, I headed for the office for coffee, news, and posting. Outside the room, Tucker sang his people’s song with a spirited voice. Going out, I asked, “What is it? What do you want? What do you need?”
“Mrff,” he answered, striding to the closed coat closet.
“What, you need a coat? You leave a mouse in there?”
Tucker stopped at the door and stared at me. “Mrff.”
I opened the closet. Muttering, “Mrff,” in a soft voice, he stepped in and went left. I leaned in and watched. He went about sniffing. I let him be. Ten minutes later, I checked on him and found him asleep in dining room sunshine.
Had a boatload of dreams last night. I awoke thinking, what did I eat or do to inspire so many dreams? None were about me. Instead, they were stories being told. I developed novel concepts out of three of them. The burst of nocturnal creativity was startling.
Speaking of startling, I read three different net tales about how well President Biden is doing. First came an updated list from Daily Kos, what has Biden done? This was a bulletpoint compilation of his administration’s accomplishment. Next from Robert Hubell was a piece about Biden going on the offensive. Finally, again from Daily Kos, was a story about Fox News gushing about the Biden economy. Sweet stuff for Democrats and Biden supporters.
With all these newsworthy tales in mind, The Neurons broke out “Second Hand News” by Fleetwood Mac in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). The news wasn’t necessarily second hand news; more likely the word ‘news’ evoked the 1977 song for Les Neurons. I remember when the song came out, as I was in the Philippines, in the military, but without my wife, and the song spoke to me about being alone. I am pretty familiar with it.
Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee and I are in sync, having sipped down most of a cup. Here’s the music. Enjoy your day. Cheers
Just Remembered
I’m often visited by earworms. It’s a chronic thing. Songs from across my lifetime drop by in the part of my head where music memories reside, the mental music stream. This often happens in the morning, giving that realm the name, morning mental music stream.
These songs don’t just drop in and depart. They’re normally on a tour that lasts several days. Well, I recently shared a song as my day’s theme music, “Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode. After dressing, heading out the door for the coffee shop this morning, I was singing it aloud as it played in the MMMS when I suddenly remembered Mom singing it to me once during a visit home, Mom, with her Doris Day voice.
Oh, that made me laugh. The song came out in 1989. I lived in Germany then, so I think it was when I came back to America in 1991 and visited her that the singing took place. I don’t know how she knew the song, but suspected it was through her daughters or grandchildren.
What a memory.
Michael Seidel, writer 