Thurturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Hurricanefatigued

It’s supposed to be Thursday. Where I sit, it feels like Saturday. So it’s a hybrid day, officially Thursday, but more like Saturday in feel. Thurturday.

By the numbers, this is October 10, 2024. 54 F, it’s mildly cloudy. Highs might top 80 F, and there’s a chance of leaf showers. They’re coming off the trees fast in my backyard, energizing memories of being out there with a rake on a chilly day under a cloudy sky, cup of coffee off to one side to sustain me, raking and bagging. Sometimes, it would lightly drizzle. I prefer to keep the leaves in place as mulch but my wife dislikes that approach, so I put myself out there and get ’em up.

Pleased that Hurricane Milton seemed to have skimmed Florida without too much devastation and loss of life. Considering Milton’s smaller size but more powerful winds, we worried here in Oregon about what was going to happen. But Milton swept through fast. Yes, there’s some damage and flooding, and loss of life. Sorry to hear of all of that, of course, but that the levels of these things were not on the scale of Helene is a sort of release.

Now, I’d appreciate it if we could go without a hurricane for a while. I’m sure others have much stronger feelings on that than me.

With this mild but dry, warmish weather, the house floofs are making it their business to tuck in for long naps in their favorite yard spots and while out time with a snooze fest. I check on them regularly, and each will come in, tail up, for attention, food, or treats, but only after long hours outside sleeping. Guess these are the floof days of autumn I’d always heard about.

Today’s song is A Flock of Seagulls with “I Ran (So Far Away)” from forty-two years ago. It started in the morning mental music stream (Trademark purrfect) after a floof incident. Papi the ginger blade was the catalyst. Stepping from the house as Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) walked toward it, Papi darted at Tucker and made a little swipe. Toothless elderly Tucker, stopped, half-turned, and used his one good eye to give Papi a stare. Papi responded, “Whoa, shit,” and blazed across the yard to a tree. Springing halfway up it, he hung on and looked back at me. I thought his expression said, “See how far I ran away?” Seeing that (as I chuckled and Tucker completed his journey into the house), The Neuons kicked on the Flock with “I Ran”.

Stay positive, be strong and merry, and vote blue in 2024. I have introduced myself to a cup of coffee. Here’s the music video. Dig the hair. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

6:04, 8:30, 8/1/2021, 96. These are the numbers defining the day’s parameters. Sunrise in the AM, sunset in the PM, the first day of August, and another high forecast for the upper nineties. Little leery of that last. Said the same yesterday. Next thing I know, I glance at the thermometer and it’s claiming 108. Checked with Alexa. She assured me it was only 101.

Yes, it’s Sunday but things are little changed. Awoke with a cat eyeing me. Purring. Kneading. Drooling. Hungry, I suspected. Or possessed. I tried to pretend I wasn’t awake. He tapped my cheek with a claw. Rubbed against my nose. Hand. Smiled.

Well, I thought it was a smile. Looking into his eyes, I began singing “Space Age Love Song” to him. A Flock of Seagulls. 1982. “I saw your eyes. You made me smile. For a little while I was falling in love.”

The cat — this is Tucker, he of the long and thick black and white fur, large white paws, and helter-skelter curvaceous whiskers — dropped his smile. Frowned. Changed his gaze to, “I’m hungry and you’re singing? What’s wrong with you?” It all worked out. I turned away. He remained patient. Spoke up with a rusty, drawling meow laced with purring trills. Knew I’d crumble.

Here’s the music. Watch the video. Admire the hair. Note the style. Shake your head and tell yourself, “My, how things have changed.” Stay positive, test neg., wear a mask as needed and don’t be stupid or complacent about it, and get the vax if you’ve not done so, if you can. Cheers

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