Floofaway

Floofaway (floofinition) – 1. When an animal (especially a pet) is absent from its usual location or isn’t following its regular routine. 2. The noises and motions made to shoo an animal away.

In use: “Not finding Meep in his usual locations, Michael decided that the ginger boy was on a floofaway, and wondered how long it would be — and where he was.”

Día de Floofos

Día de Floofos (floofinition) – Day of the Animals (November 26 – November 28) Global holiday observed by animals to celebrate and remember other animals, especially those who passed before them. Festivities and rituals vary by region and species, but many animals will choose to go into seclusion for at least a portion of the time to commune with animals who have crossed the rainbow bridge.

In use: “To help his pets celebrate Día de Floofos, he bought special foods and toys, and then left the house to them so that they could celebrate without holding back.”

Floofdicial

Floofdicial (floofinition) – Of, by, or appropriate to an animal’s judgement.

In use: “No matter what she tried to do to make Oreo happy, the feline always gave her a floofdicial stare that declared, “Guilty,” forcing her to go back to giving Oreo the treats that she preferred.”

Floofmagic

Floofmagic (floofinition) – 1. Quantum acts (such as appearing to be in two different places instantaneously) done by animals that seem to defy ordinary physics and classical science. 2. Animals’ ability to calm and relax others.

In use: “Tupper suffered from nightmares, but once Leggo the dog arrived and applied his floofmagic, everything changed.”

Grappling with Dreams

My recent series of dreams have involved structures and family. Two that stand out were about my father and my in-laws.

The dream about my father had bronze red overtones to everything. We were underground, in a cave. Alive (as he is), he was selecting his coffin and burial site. His burial site was a strange building. It had been some sort of business. I was asking him, “This is where you want to be buried?” It seemed so bizarre to me.

Dad barely took notice of my question. He was busy organizing his burial process and closing the deal for the building. Passing out leaflets (which were red), he told me, “You’re one of the pallbearers but you won’t be carrying me.”

I said, “Where is this place?” Someone pointed out a map on wall. I went over to the map and studied it, determining that it was on the California-Nevada border. Knowing where it was, I stepped outside to see it. I discovered I was standing on top of a hill. Below was a huge quarry operation. Shaped in a circle or oval, it was miles wide.

“This is a mine,” I said, looking for Dad. “Why would you want to be buried in a mine?”

The dream ended.

The next night, I dreamed that I was visiting with my sister-in-law and her husband. Other relatives from my wife’s side were present, as was my wife. My mother- and father-in-law have both passed away, and we were at their old home. Only this home was nothing like their home.

Everyone was turning to me and saying, “What should we do with this?” The house was like an faintly familiar maze of rooms and additions. I told everyone, “We need to determine what we have.” Everyone agreed to that, but asked, “How?”

I said, “Well, first, we’ll need to explore.”

Officials came up to us to talk about the house and our plans. I told them of my plan, and they approved. They then said that I should contact a specific person. While he was a teammate, we’d never been close and he was a year behind me. “He’ll certify the findings for you,” the officials said.

I agreed to do that. Then I began leading the family around the dwelling. I said, “I’m going to turn on light switches. Everyone watch to see what lights up. We need to open every door and find every switch.” All agreed.

I did as planned. Whenever I opened a door, I’d find the switch and turn on the lights. Surprising reveals followed. Old rooms and additions that we didn’t know about were revealed. Some were old offices, with filing cabinets and seats. Although old, they showed signs of recent use. Scenes like this, of different rooms that we didn’t know about, happened again and again.

Finished, we went outside. My sister-in-law’s husband came up to me. He said, “Now you know what we faced. Not so easy, is it?” He was laughing, and agreeing, I laughed, too.

Studying the house, I said, “I never knew that it looked like this.” It was a sprawling, eclectic design of multiple levels. Many were new and some were old. As I looked at it, I said, “I know what to do.”

The dream ended.

I’ve dreamed about these in-laws a few times in the past two weeks. In other dreams, I was driving them. I’ve dreamed about my wife’s parents’ home numerous times in the past few years, but the dream and home were always different. The commonality is always that the house surprises me, I’m exploring it, and everyone is looking at me to decide what to do.

 

Sunday’s Theme Music

Today’s song popped out of nowhere into my stream, nowhere being an easy reference to the interior realms of the space where my little gray brain cells huddle for warmth. But overhearing the women across the coffee shop talking (powerful stage voices), the song is appropriate.

“Changes” by David Bowie (1972) was already nestled in my cerebellum when I sat down but I wasn’t sure if it was today’s music. Then I heard the women talking.

First, they mentioned streaming services. They were comparing Netflix and Amazon Prime (or Prime Video), and how they share and release shows and movies on their sights. Talking about Amazon Prime prompted one to mention the free two-day shipping on many items, and the associated guarantees. A joke about getting stuff faster so you would order more faster emerged. Memories about ordering stuff in the old days and getting it six to eight weeks followed. It usually came by mail, too. UPS and Fed Ex trucks weren’t rushing around every where in those days.

Then they talked about catalogs. Spiegel’s. Sears. Montgomery Wards. Ah, yes, they’d ordered from all of them, and had fond memories of ordering from the Spiegel’s calendar. (I’ve ordered from them all, too, especially when I lived outside of the U.S. in the 1970s.) The women then recollected tales of the outhouse where the Sears catalog sometimes ended up, as those thin pages worked well to clean up after your business.

Last, they recalled S&H Green Stamps and using a sponge to paste pages at a time.

Yep, “Changes” is appropriate for today, from the weather and the seasons, to the music and the times, and how long it takes for your order to arrive.

I decided to use this Youtube offering of “Changes” because of Bowie’s photo. Look at the lad. Ah, changes.

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