

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not


We’ve slipped the surly bonds of one day and into the grasp of another. I shall call this one, Thursday the thirteenth of January, 2022. Having said it, the reality spreads like a virus, infecting everyone.
Sunrise, if you believe your mind and eyes, entered our sliver of being in Ashland at 7:38 AM. The sun will slip away and give us over to night at 5:02 PM. Mild winter weather still coddles us, 54 F now, at almost noon, with room for a few more degrees of warmth today. Syrupy white clouds mingle with gray, waiting to be stirred and spead over long blue legs.
“Photograph” by Def Leppard (1983) cropped into the morning mental music stream. My wife’s mother passed away Feb 18, 2018. A picture of the woman is in my office on top of a book club. Taken toward the end of her eighty-five years, intelligence and humor still rumbled in her blue eyes then, not so much in the last year of her life. Seeing the photograph brought out the song. So, why? Don’t know what the neurons are up to. I’m just the vessel.
Stay positive. Test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and boosts when you can. Have coffee if you sway that way. I do, and I will. Cheers

Floofnorant (floofinition) – People who are oblivious of animals and animal behavior, except for the barest awareness that animals exist.
In use: “Many of the floofnorant sniff and make disdainful noises that animals are dumb, don’t have emotions, and don’t feel pain. People who live with animals have a much different view.”
Dawn broke the darkness at 7:39 AM. Its light had been stealing in like a child sneaking up to take a cookie that they weren’t supposed to take. But it officially came at 7:39. The backside comes at straight up 5 PM.
Today is January 11, 2022. This will be the only day this year with that date. Make it a special day in honor of its uniqueness. Our temperatures remain warm, 40 F at dawn, 52 now, on our way to 58 to 60. A faded winter sky overlooks a fusion landscape of fall and spring, bare trees and new growth.
I have Steve Winwood’s 1988 song, “Don’t You Know What the Night Can Do?”, parading through the morning’s mental music stream, a reflection of a night of vivid dreams and contemplations about spectrums — the spectrum of time, life, and biology. How the night can change a mood is impressive. One can fall into sleep, awaken a zillion hours later and feel fantastic. Not what the night can do, per se: don’t you know what a good night of sleep can do?
In other news, scientists are using the idea of warm balls as a possible male contraceptive. There are some limits: “In the hotter tests of the experiment, however, the balls atrophied, and in some—depending on how much iron oxide was injected, and how hot the nuts got—showed “distinct black discolorations” and the testes were “severely damaged at 7 days.” If they were cooked above 113 degrees, the balls didn’t recover.” Imagine contraceptive underwear being offered for sale at Target as a holiday stocking stuffer.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax and boosters. Excuse me, I’m gonna refresh my coffee. Here’s the music, with a little Letterman and Schaffer. Cheers
The three-day apple diet was endured. Yeah, not bad, except in maddening fits when habits drive hunger. Like relaxing, watching television or reading in the evening invites a food companion. Not anything big but the apple slices weren’t satisfying in those moments.
That was rare, though. I’m satisfied with results. I suffer from edema brought on by Amlodipine taken to manage my high blood pressure. Apples only for three days had a dramatic impact. Likewise, as I’ve aged, mild bloating plagues me. That disappeared. And I felt damn fine. I’d recommend it to others.
Rising yesterday morning, I wasn’t hungry and ate breakfast a little later than usual. Energy level was high. I didn’t have any dramatic urges or desires to stuff myself. For dinner, we enjoyed fish with seasoned boiled potatoes, steamed broccoli, and a salad.
The cats rose up. “Fish! Real food. At last, we have been delivered from our suffering.” They charged my plate, leaping up onto the table. They know they’re not allowed on the table.
My response: “Get down. Back. This is my food. You don’t see me going after your food.”
They all jumped down and scattered back a few feet. The head floof said, “You can eat my kibble any time you want. I’ll trade.”
I told him I’d passed. He walked away, muttering to himself, tail swishing.
I don’t think he was happy.
He sits and washes
Curls up and sleeps
Runs to the food bowl
And sits and eats
Yawns and stretches
Curls up and sleeps
Begs for treats
Curls up and sleeps
Runs and scratches
Curls up and sleeps
Plays with a toy
Curls up and sleeps
Goes outside
Curls up and sleeps
Comes back in
Sits and eats
Plays on the laptop
Curls up and sleeps
Takes my chairs
Curls up and sleeps
Watches birds and squirrels
Curls up and sleeps
Then sits and washes
Curls up and sleeps
Runs to the food bowl
And sits and eats
Pitter, patter, the cats are at it, running halls like they own them. Greetings to people on the third rock from the sun. Today is Monday, January 10, 2021. The wind abates off and on but the cats remain displeased. Although the sun duly chugged into the sky at 7:39 AM, it did so without great warmth or enthusiasm. The cats don’t like that. “Give me some sunshine,” they meow at me. “Talk to the sun and clouds,” I answer. “I have no hand.”
The sun will hang around until 4:58 PM. The weather isn’t bad despite the cats’ sunshine complaint. Temperature is at 43 F and we expect it to climb to 54 F.
Later, that same day…
The morning was interrupted by phone calls and then it was off to deliver food for Food & Friends. Since the initial words were typed, the weather has improved. Blue has bled through the clouds. Sunshine’s yawn engulfs the valley. We’ve warmed to 54 and the wind has passed to gentle breezes. The cats, however, are indifferent to the changes; they are asleep.
Today’s morning mental music stream resident is Jack Johnson with “Sitting, Waiting, Wishing” from 2005. It’s another cat-inspired choice. While I was doing morning business, the first floof and the floofs-in-waiting sounded off their impatience for morning wet food. Not enough that they have kibble. No, these furry gods also require wet food twice a day, along with royal treats.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get thee the jabs when you can. Time for fresh coffee. Anyone with me? Cheers
Cancflooflation (floofinition) – An event, plan, action, or activity that is stopped due to an animal.
In use: “They’d planned to clean the house but a cancflooflation was made because the cat and dog were sleeping together in a long patch of sunshine and looked so darn cute.”