Monday’s Theme Music

Sitting on the cusp of June, watching the Earth’s rotations roll on. Today is May 31, 2021, a Monday. It’s Memorial Day in the U.S., making this a classic Memorial Day Monday. Now just add a mocha…

Sunshine’s streaming slipped silently in at 0538. I was there to see it, having arisen to tend the bladder’s call. Mountains and trees hide the sun’s early efforts in my house so there was naught to see but the growing emergence of a blue summery sky. Yes, it’s not summer that, but try telling the weather. We’ll be dry and in the nineties today in Ashland. The Earth’s rotation will take the sun away at 2040 or thereabouts. I can see that pretty clearly from the house’s front.

I’d forgotten about the hummingbird episode of the day before yesterday. Out walking toward sunset, I’d gone up the street a few hundred feet in elevation. Turning from one road to another to go up more affording great views of the valley’s northern side. No matter the season, I engage in slowing down to turn and consider the rolling hills and short peaks. Sunshine lingers on that side. They get more snow in winter. Spring greens are rich and lavish. Sunset brings whatever is there into sharper relief.

While doing my contemplating, a green hummingbird darted down and hovered in front of my face. Edging left, right, vertically dancing, the little black-beak friend seemed to be scanning me. This habit of theirs always entertain me. I speak to them with my mind, saying hello and such. This one stayed for about ten seconds before climbing and turning, losing itself behind a veil of leaves. Hummingbird visits are fortifying. I continued on my way a bit happier.

Memorial Day offers a rich memory lode. Mom enjoyed holidays and made the most of these to create memorable family get togethers. In good years, we headed to a state beach, going early to get good parking and good spots. Food was prepared ahead. Think fried chicken, potato salad. Then there was grilling burgers and wieners, lavishing them with condiments. Make mine a cheeseburger, please, with pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, onion, ketchup, and mustard. Dessert — we’re talking pies or cakes here, but often also had watermelon — followed. Augmenting these courses were chips, pretzels, and cookies. None of us were fat, though. Besides all that, we played sports like volleyball or badminton, and went swimming. Time was also spent walking around, enjoying the natural environs.

My wife’s family had a different take. Their Memorial Day was Decoration Day, a time to load up in the car and go visit the family cemeteries, say hello to deceased members, put flowers on graves, and remember those folk. Socializing with other family who lived nearby followed. Then, back home.

For our holiday in 2021, I’m painting more of our house’s interior. We’re far from family. Most of her nucleus has passed away. All of our relatives live thousands of miles from us. It’s a low key celebration and reflection for us.

All this memorifying has me nostalgic for old rock. Enter Jefferson Airplane with their 1967 song, “Somebody to Love”. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask when asked, and get that vax. Cheers

May 31, 2021 0

Cafloofdling

Cafloofdling (floofinition) – Engaging in amorous but non-sexual embracing, caressing, and kissing with an animal.

In use: “Many people end up cafloofdling with their pets when they get home after a long day out, finding comfort and satisfaction with the animals’ expressions of joy that their people are home once again.”

May 30, 2021 2

Sunday’s Theme Music

After peeking in through windows at 5:38 AM in Ashland with shy pale goldens, the sun boldly shouldered in, shouting, “We got your sunshine. We got your daylight.” Such a bold sun plans to put out browning, sweat-inducing heat, don’t you know. Temperatures will hunt the lower nineties before the sun, still in its place, disappears from the valley at 20:39.

Got the darkness trying to throttle me. It’s a debilitating but brief trough experienced when I ponder what’s the use of all this nonsense? I was walking as it struck, like a bolt into my soul, just before sunset last night. Because a wildfire is being fought and people evacuated, I was thinking about wildfires and water shortages. Many new homes are being built in Ashland. Development is the daily cry as the trucks lumber in with supplies and workers busy with foundations and walls. We were already being told to conserve water. Now there is less water to be divided among more households.

Dev is good but with that shrinking water base, we also have an expanding wildfire season. Before COVID-19 shut down activities, wildfire smoke did the same, cratering the local economy becoming an annual thing. The first time it happened, businesses dismissed it as a one off. Second time, some pulled the plug. Third time, dark mutterings about what are we going to do were heard.

City council lacks the leadership to move out of this mess. Frankly, the mess is bigger than them. Is it climate change? By the time sufficient data is collected, we probably won’t be around to know. Meanwhile, the new houses being built are closer together as land becomes a precious commodity. Streets are narrower. Traffic density rises. Did I mention that a two-lane state highway longitudinally bisects the town? Only one way in and out, not a reassuring realization for planning evacuations. Every street feeds into it.

With the darkness and these bleak realizations colliding, on came an old song by the Smiths. Here are the lines.

This town has dragged you down
And everybody’s got to live their life
And God knows I’ve got to live mine
God knows I’ve got to live mine

h/t to Genius.com

The 1984 song is called, “William, It Was Really Nothing”. Yes, it’s really nothing; just a little darkness nibbling the psyche. Stay positive (you know, like me!), test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Cheers

May 30, 2021 0

Floofsurrus

Floofsurrus (floofinition) – A soft rustling sound sometimes heard when an animal passes.

In use: “Floofsurrus to the right, by the bed’s footboard, informed him that one of the cats was in motion. Subsequent bouncy pawfalls and kibble crunching told on Papi visiting the food bowl.”

May 29, 2021 0

Floofman’s Floofmits

Floofman’s Floofmits (floofinition) – Flooflish floof rock (flock) – floof pop (floop) band. Formed in Floofchester in 1964, the band achieved its greatest success as part of the beat movement of the 1960s. The band continues to tour and perform.

In use: “The 1965 song, “Mrs. Brown, You Have A Lovely Floofie”, was Floofman’s Floofmits’ first number one hit in the Floofnited States, although the song “I’m Floofie the VIII, I Am”, an old floof hall song about being the eighth pet owned by a widow, is the song best known by many of their fans.”

May 28, 2021 2

May 27, 2021 0

EFP (Extra Floofsory Perception)

EFP (Extra Floofsory Perception) (Floofinition) – 1. An animal’s sudden awareness that another animal is about.

In use: “Sue saw and heard nothing but Cinder’s EFP kicked in, and the cat rose, heading to the window. Sitting down, staring, she waited. A minute, two maybe, and another cat strolled into sight.”

2. Animal’s inexplicable ability to know and understand matters.

In use: “Bethanne knew that she couldn’t spell vet around Lumber, leave off speaking the word aloud. She’d even quit mentioning it in emails and text. Yet, Lumber’s extra floofsory perception knew that Wednesday afternoon that she wasn’t taking him to the park; Lumber knew she had a vet visit planned, and immediately hid his leash, then did his best to hide his seventy-five pounds of fur in the closet.”

May 25, 2021 2

May 24, 2021 1

Monday’s Theme Music

5:42 AM came, bringing the sun — or did the sun bring the time? These are the things that are pondered when you awaken at an unexpected moment, along with the name of a favorite restaurant that you ate at one time in 1997, and obscure information, such as, what is the capitol of Paraguay, and other lines from Billy Collins’ poem, “Forgetfulness”. Then you find yourself trying to remember “What Dogs Think” and “A Dog on His Master” by Billy Collins, and then wonder, is Billy Collins still alive? Before you know it, it’s already 8:36 PM, and the sun is setting…

Unless you have pets, who remind you of your obligations to feed, love, and honor them, especially that feeding part, forcing you out of bed. My cats didn’t remind me of the day — who cares if it’s Monday, when you’re a cat doing the same thing every day? — and didn’t remind me of the date, May 24, 2021, because animals use a completely different calendar system. My cats assure me that their system is better. Every year is a floof year. They won’t explain what that means.

I was painting inside the house yesterday, attacking this year’s project, the great room. The great room is not great IMO. It’s just okay. It’s the living-dining-kitchen room, no walls between them, just one high ceiling. I painted the kitchen part last year after doing the foyer and front hall. I’d done the bathrooms and guest room the year before. You see the progression. I’d planned more painting last year, but then broke my arm after a poor dismount from the kitchen counter, which I was standing on to reinstall the kitchen blinds. The broken arm — two bones, at the wrist, and a buncha collateral damage — got me out of work, but I don’t recommend it. Just tell them that your cats stole the paint or something, if you don’t want to paint.

Anyway, while painting, I had Rihanna’s song, “Work”, going through my head for a while. You know, “work, work, work, work, work.” But Huey Lewis and the News took over the neurons with their 1982 song, “Workin’ for A Livin'”, and managed to stay there. Now I need to get rid of it, so I’m postin’ it here.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Cheers