Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofscaping (floofinition) – Arranging a space to be more animal friendly.
In use: “Floofios such as catios and pupios are becoming more prevalent floofscaping features as people take action to give their fur friends safe access to fresh air and sunshine.”
“You overthink things,” the muses said.
“Guilty.”
“Don’t. Trust us. Write and enjoy yourself.”
The writer sniffed, a response delivered with a tincture of hurt indignation. “Easy for you to say.”
A muse sighed. “Easier for you to do, if you’ll let yourself.”
Sure, the writer thought. Sure.
The bowed garage door has been repaired. The repair dude came, he saw, he did what I thought should be done, as he’s done to hundreds of other garage doors in his young career. A strut was tranversely attached via bolts to the garage door’s width. Repair dude used a stouter strut than I would have used mostly because I didn’t see one like it when I searched, but I thought it made sense when I saw the finish. He also tightened the chain’s tension to help compensate for the added weight. Although it wasn’t a DIY project, I was satisified.
The other repair event was the Mazda’s GPS, made by Tom Tom. I’d attempted to update the system before going on vacation. It went badly wrong. I asked for money back. Support reached out to me. I finally set aside time and followed their repair instructions. That didn’t work quite as they suggested, but I employed my own knowledge from my stone-age experience in tech support management. If one thing doesn’t work, observe what happened and try others. Following that perfected process delivered a good result. Didn’t consume much more than twenty-five minutes, too.
So, yeah, yea. Celebrate small victories, right? Yeah.
Cheers
We returned from vacation last week, which was a road trip lasting about a week on the Oregon coast and up in northwest Oregon. The best parts, of course, were being away, being with friends and family, and then, yes, coming home. Coming home and finding the floofs in good shape and the house standing and damage free is satisfying.
Past those obvious points, I had specifics that I enjoyed. This is not the definitive order or rankings. They’re just the matters I most enjoyed.
Not a fancy list, but if you get to these places – Cape Perpetua, Powell’s, Green Salmon, the Pacific – please check them out. Tell them Michael sent you. They’ll probably reply, “WTF are you talking about?”
Everything whizzed by in this dream. With few exceptions, chaos ruled.
I began by entering some sort of dark, busy pavilion. Plants hung down from the rafters. The inside was filled with tables. It could have been something like a flea market but I never knew for certain. As I walked around, I visited with a dog, petting and talking to him. Coming to another entrance, I then encountered a large, black dog. I reached out to visit with him. I snapped his teeth at me and then began growling. I shrugged it off and walked. The dog followed me, growling me. I turned and told him to stop and then threatened to hit him with a sock I had in my hand. The dog backed off.
I continued. Some people (hazy) asked me questions. I seemed to know them. I answered and then told them that I need to change my clothes. I went to do this and realized my clotherees were in suitcases. After finding one, I realized my other suitcases were elsewhere. I knew exactly where, though, and rushed to them. But then it was like, okay, what will I wear, oh, the underwear is in the other suitcase, there’s the light blue sweat I wanted, all while answering others’ questions as they walked past me or stood behind me.
Dream end
He took his socks off in the office, balled them up and set them on the desk.
His partner had done the laundry earlier. A few hours later, she walked in and tossed a pair of socks on the bed. Seeing them, he put them away in his sock drawer. It was only when he went to put on his socks and shoes to walk up and check the mail did he realize what had happened.
High Floof (floofinition) – 1. In the Floofodoxy Church, the High Floof is the floofiest position, responsible for ruling over other floofs regarding floof matters.
In use: “As the High Floof, Sammy interpreted what the humans were saying and told the other pets how to respond. None of the household pets ever did anything without Sammy’s sayso.”
2. An animal that habitually prefers a higher physical location.
In use: “While Misty was an underfloof, always at foot level, Mo was a high floof, jumping up onto the cat tree, irritating the felines with his canine presence.”
I had an odd dream. My wife and I were in our house. It’s not our RL house nor any place where I’ve lived but I know in the dream that it’s mine. For some reason, there’s a small black kitten there. All legs and ears, with a short, pointed tail, he’s an energetic whirlwind, battling everything, prancing and spinning, on the attack, crabbing and racing around. It delighted me. “Look at his energy,” I said. “He’s amazing.”
Friends were moving away. My wife announced, “I want a new house. Come on.” I began protesting about it, asking, right now, looking for reasons why, etc. She was non-communicative. I get in the car with her, still trying to talk with her about it, and she ends up saying that she wants a smaller house, and she wants us to drive around looking for it. I have a small off-white kitten with me. The cat is basically sleeping on me.
We get to place where she wants to stop and look for a home. After parking, we’re walking to the place when she thinks she sees someone she knows. She just wants to say hello, she says, rushing off. I tell her not to be too long because I know how she is. Then I wander into a place.
It’s pretty non-descript. I put the white kitten down. It runs around, playing kitten games. Meanwhile, a young girl comes up and strikes me on the back with a flat metal object. It’s not quite a sword or any weapon I’ve ever seen. A young boy comes up and tries doing the same. The boy then explains that they’re playing a game, it’s part of a bigger game, and they get points by striking people. I take them on, encouraging them to strike more boldly and quickly. After a little of this, I recover the white kitten. The kitten and I lie down under a blanket for a nap.
My wife finally returns, calling for me. I sit up with the kitten. My wife tells me that she ‘still has feelings’ for this other person, someone she’s not seen in decades.
I just explode. “Fine. I’m tired of this,” I say. “Do what you want. I’m gone.”
Dream end.
After knowing one another for fifty-one years, including forty-five years of marriage, they remain a couple separated by a common language, even though they’re both American.
