Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Trying to catch him is like reaching for sushine in the air
He’s so quick, elusive, it’s just not fair.
Passing us in a blaze of light,
He’s a wingless small animal lifting off in flight.
His burst of speed has no rhyme nor reason,
And seems independent of time and season.
Just as we keep wondering why and thinking where,
He comes back with a purr, his tail in the air.
And on the last day of January of 2025, rain fell on Ashlandia.
Yes, it’s Frieda, January 31, 2025, and rain is peppering Ashlandia. 41 F outside, ‘they’ inform us that it’ll edge close to 50 F before day surrenders to night. Visibility is limited by low, white clouds. Can’t look across the valley to see what’s happening there, or further up the southern range, to see if this precipitation has cast its lot with snow anywhere.
I’m happy with the rain, but not all in the household share the pleasure. Papi has traveled in and out in search of better weather. My wife said that at one point, she opened the door for him to come back in, but he acted like he wanted her to come outside. “I think he was saying, it’s raining, come out here and change the weather,” she related.
Alas, we don’t have the weather change app yet so we couldn’t help him. That forces him to go out and in and forces us to open and close doors for his travels. It’s become stale after ten rounds. We might be starkers by mid-afternoon.
Spending of starkers — no, I’m not going into politics yet. Too damn early to burst my spirit with tales from the dark side. I will say that I read that one Trump supporter, a Muslim, approves of Trump’s first days of activity. I’m waiting for the other shoe on that FAFO situation to drop. Like that man who wholly supported Trump’s actions until they came and took his wife away. Then, suddenly, he is crying, woe is me, and personally begging Trump himself to not take his wife away. They just don’t get it, do they? Trump and his minions care for no one but themselves. For that matter, Trump only cares about Trump. And he’ll lie in a breath without a thought. He’ll also speak without a thought, too, as he keeps proving. On further evidence, Trump supporters are like Trump in many ways, unaffected by these policies until it hits them, thinking only of themselves until it hits them, blissfully oblivious to what they say and do until it comes back and bites them in the ass.
The Neurons have brought up a 1993 Billy Joel tune. “The River of Dreams” is playing in the morning mental music stream. It has a sort of Gospel/spiritual flavor infusing it. The Neurons offered it to the stream after I’d gotten up in the middle of the night. Yes, a cat was involved. After taking care of the cat need, I had several needs, involving trips to the kitchen and the bathroom. I hadn’t turned on any lights, but we have several recessed night lights installed. Anyway, I also wandered to the window to check on the rain. That’s when the song came in. Joel sings, “In the middle of the night, I go walking in my sleep.” Seemed kinda apt at the time, in The Neurons’ opinion. Yes, although there are millions of them, the usually speak with one collective opinion.
Coffee is making its way through my systems, delivering whatever help it can. Time to fly. Hope your day is up to your hopes and aspirations wherever you might travel or whatever you do.* Here we go. Cheers
*Certain restrictions may apply.
It’s a potpourri of offerings and updates. Nothing important. Just sharing.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), my black and white wonder floof, had some issues this morning. I heard him in the litter box at a quarter to daylight this morning. The familar tones of him puking followed. I rose to check it out and soon learned that he was constipated. After comforting him, I warmed water and gave him a few CCs of that via syringe. Next, warmed water and made a slurry out of his kibble, which he eagerly took in. Finally, warmed water, mixed it with a Churro bisque and fed him a few CCs of that. Meanwhile, in his wanderings, three small, hard stools were released. After these treatments, he retired to his litter box and had a large bowel movement. Then he acted normal. But this is a warning shot; I need to shift his diet and ensure he’s eating more wet food. I’d noticed that since his teeth have been removed, that’s been a problem for him. I’m also picking up some cat laxative to keep on hand, just in case.
My healing continues, and my edema issues are improving. I’ve been experiencing bi-lateral edema. Started a few years ago, in conjunction with an obstructed bladder caused by an enlarged prostat. Ankle surgery last fall made it worse on my right leg and foot. I focus on reducing the swelling by day’s end every day. Here in general is what I’ve done.
This all seems to be paying off. My left limb and foot doesn’t swell much during the day at all. The swelling on my right foot, ankle, and leg is completely gone by each morning. Although it slowly swells during the day, the swelling isn’t as heavy. My mobility, strength, and flexibility have all improved, IMO, based on the exercises and my observations. I commence my lymph-edema massage therapy next week.
My wife and I both like to do word games like Connections, Spelling Bee, Wordle, and Hurdle. Each day, we talk about how easy or hard the games were for us. We also laugh about how we sometimes screw up. For example, with Wordle and Hurdle, you’re guessing a five letter word. You have six guesses. Correct letters show up in green. Letters which are in the word but in the wrong location are in gold or yellow. It’s humorous but irritating to realize after making some guesses that we’ve overlooked or have forgotten to use a letter in yellow in our guesses. It’s like, “OMG, I had a N in yellow that I forgot! What is wrong with me?”
It’s all fun and games.
Infloofition (floofinition) – The ability to know without direct evidence, rational thought, or inference, what an animal will do. Origins: Middle Flooflish, from the Flooftin, first noted use in 1600.
In Use: “Connie’s infloofition caused her to sigh, put down her novel, and head for the door. Rascal had gone out through the pet door six minutes before, and a fight was overdue.”
In Use: “Taylor put their plate down and went to fetch a glass of tea when infloofition made them rush back to their food just as Munchkin arrived to make it hers.”
Flooflink (floofinition) 1. Connection between animals. Origins: Middle Flooflish, of Scandfloofnavian roots; first noted use in the fifthteenth century.
In Use: “Dog and cat, both Hurricane Katrina survivors, had an unshakeable flooflink from the instant they touched noses.”
2. The established cause and effect between an animal’s action, sound, or behavior and a result.
In Use: “Entering the house to a scene of disheveled plants and unrolled toilet paper, Pietr gazed at the drowsy kittens, certain that he was looking at the flooflink, as his dog studied him with wide, innocent eyes.”
3. An electronic connecting structure about animals which provides direct access from one web page to another.
In Use: “Just googling ‘funny cat videos’ resulted in a plethora of flooflinks to click on and kill time.”
In Use: “Seeing the video title, ‘A Curious Cat’s Life is Never Boring’, Michael just had to provide a flooflink to it in his post.”
Lethflooflogica (floofinition) – Inability to remember an animal’s correct name. Origins: Attributed to Carl Floong, borrowed from ancient Fleek.
In Use: “Bunchy had acquired so many names — neighbors called him one thing, different family members referred to him by other names like Sparky, Blackie, Onyx, and he’d come to the family with a foster name — that the pet sitter often suffered lethflooflogica and referred first to the other animals’ names before landing on Bunchy.”
Mood: Morninlazin
Sunshine and blue owned the morning sky. The afternoon’s start delivered winds and smotherin’ gray clouds. That mornin’ sunshine feels like a mirage. It’s 43 F. High will be 44 F. Dropped into the cold zone overnight, 29 F at our house. Decidin’ that he preferred warmth over being a free animal, Papi nested in the house until 5:50 AM. That’s when he did his bangin’ to be freed.
BTW, today is Sunda, January 12, 2025.
I’ve been car watching from the coffee shop. We used to have an expression in the US Air Force for B52 bombers. We called them BUFs. Big Ugly F*ckers. I think the term should be revised for some of those vehicles roamin’ the streets. The Tesla Cybertruck certainly qualifies as a BUF. As does the Telluride SUV. My opinion, of course. Others might call them the epitomy of technologic beauty. Some segment probably sees no beauty in any vehicle, dubbin’ them all monstrosities of the modern landscape. And that’s also a reasonable response.
I’ve been watching The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey on Apple. Created by Walter Mosley and based on his novel, the main actor is Samuel L. Jackson. That’s a double win for me, as I’m fans of both. Also features Walton Goggins, another personal preference when I’m watching shows and movies, and has a strong cast. No misfires among any of them, with respect and appreciation for Dominique Fishback in her role increasing. I also admire the way the show ages and de-ages Jackson’s character, Ptolemy, aka Pity. However, when they de-aged him in some episodes, his mustache looked like a glued-on fake to me. Bit distracting for me cuz of that. I recommend the series, though. Came out a few years ago.
Today’s song was gifted to The Neurons by my wife. Al Jarreau is one of her favorite performers, and one of her favorite songs is “Mornin'” from 1983. It’s one of her go-to songs when she’s cleanin’, cookin’, and exercisin’. As she resolved to make some New Year changes, she’s been playin’ this tune several times this week. Not surprisin’, The Neurons locked onto it and have it going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark waitin’). Jarreau is a helluva performer and singer. He sings with such joy. We’ve seen in concert a few times and wouldn’t hesitate to plunk down bucks and do it again, except we can’t because he passed away. This is another of those times when technology works in our favor to help us remember wonderful people. Hope you enjoy it.
Meanwhile, watching the news continuing to come out about the devastating California fires is just soul-killing. To think that someone may have deliberately started any of them is just friggin’ horrifyin’. Yet that possibility seems to have legs. In this age of Trump, I’m stirred to worry that his hateful diatribes triggered someone to actually start fires in California just to own the libs. That’s unfortunately the sort of mentality that seems possible among that cult.
Coffee and I have again embraced one another, observing the Sunday tradition set upon by myself about half a century ago. Hope you have a solid day. Here’s the music for you. Cheers
Mood: brandnufogncoffee
We’ve slipped into foggy bottom or foggy bottom slipped over us. Fogda, Jan. 6, 2025. 40 degrees F, sunshine has taken some time away, apparently, giving us over to clouds and rain. 56 F is the projected high. An air stagnation advisory has been slapped on us.
Yesterday turned into fine, sunshiny day. Of course, we were slightly out of town for most of the afternoon, and in a slighter higher elevation, visiting our friends for a party. Good cast of characters, and the house is beautiful. The owner joked that it was a two-bedroom five two hundred square foot home with five fireplaces. Main house had a beautiful small living room and a large living room which used to be the original owner’s home movie theater. That was a natural for that original owner as he owned a chain of movie theaters. Finances crashed and he quit using the house during COVID. The owner related that everything had quit working and they needed to repair and replace multiple things when they bought the home. But they did the job and it showed. There’s also a .5 acre fishing pond, heated pool, a separate artist studio, two-bedroom guest house with a two-car garage, and an RV parking garage with space for three RVs, which cracks up the current owner. “Definitely something we don’t need,” he said. It’s about eight minutes out of Ashlandia. A hallway off the foyer has his and hers coat closets, along with a guest closet.
Papi continues losing fur at a startling rate. He’s not going bald or anything; fur keeps growing in to replace it. We don’t know what’s going on. His appetite is good, he’s as perky and conversant as ever, and he looks good. We keep thinking, must be the weather, but he’s never done this before. We eye him for signs of things going amiss. If it’s there, we’re missing it.
Today’s song was born out of texts swapped between Mom, me, and a sis in the Pittsburgh, PA, region. They had snow coming down, impeding traffic, limiting outdoor options. The Neurons took the opportunity to start “Snow (Hey Oh)” by Red Hot Chili Peppers in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blizzard). The 2005 song is about getting a fresh start. Hey, it’s kinda still a new year, new month, new day, and a new government administration in the U.S. Okay, I kind of choked on that last one. I’ve always enjoyed this hard rocker. Easy to follow and sing along. And hey, it’s also about surviving, so there we go.
Be chill and don’t thrill. Coffee and I ran into each in the kitchen and swapped some spit. Hey ho, listen to what I say yo, it’s a fresh new day. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Coffeerockin
Good morning to you on this Grenday, January 5, 2025. It’s a foggy-cloudy-sunny-raining day out there. Eastern sunshine is narrowly prevailing, giving us a grey Sunday, or Grenday. Currently, we’re sitting at 42 F in our valley with a high of 51 F possible. All this is an improvement over yesterday. It saw us have a few minutes of sunshine. Hours of subsequent cold rain turned it into a gloomfest.
So today is better! Not better than places which are warm and sunshiny, but better than places smothered in ice and snow, wrecked with winds and burdened by freezing temperatures. Yes, definitely better than them.
A bright spot is that snow has accumulated in the mountains in southern Oregon. Our snowpack is at 164% of normal. That’s good news for the summer, as we depend on that slow melting ice to keep our cisterns, reservoirs, streams, and rivers filled during the long hot months when rain is rarely experienced. And it’s good to have the ground soaked again against another drought striking up. The wet ground and vegetation is a significant buffer against wildfires starting and spreading. So, it’s all good news, as long as it can be sustained for another month. That puts me at a point of grimacing agains the rain and mildly chilly temperatures with its gloom, and cheering for it for what it brings us.
Today’s song is an upbeat one. Last time — only time — that I shared it on here was when the lovely Quinn was diagnosed with lymphoma and living out his final month. Such a sweetheart, but that’s how life treats us all, regardless of how we live or our merits and debits. Unlike then, the cats are not to blame for the song’s morning mental music stream (Trademark spinning) residency. Jimmy Eat World came out with “The Middle” in 2001. Written when the band had been dropped by their first record company, it’s an upbeat rocker with some affirming lyrics.
Hey
Don’t write yourself off yet
It’s only in your head you feel left out or looked down on
Just try your best
Try everything you can
And don’t you worry what they tell themselves when you’re away
It just takes some time
Little girl, you’re in the middle of the ride
Everything, everything will be just fine
Everything, everything will be alright, alright
h/t to Songfacts.com
Today, the song emerged after I witnessed the clouds moving out, letting the sunshine wax bright.
Coffee and I have achieved cofftente. It’s kind of like detente but it’s not. Here’s the music. Hope an awesome day carries you through to tomorrow. Cheers
Mood: Firstdayfever
It’s a day of firsts. First day of bloated rain drops clunking down on us. First day of gray fog tongue lapping around everything, licking up the sunshine. First day that it’s 38 degrees F with light rain and a high of 46 F on the afternoon’s horizon. First day of Butter Butt (aka Papi the ginger blade) whining for freedom and first day of Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) begging to see what I’m eating. Yes, it’s Jan. 1, 2024. A new year.
Today’s music was heard in the car yesterday. Hooking a few loose Neurons with its vocals, they began whispering and humming it throughout the evening. By this morning, they’d swayed other Neurons into joining them. Now they’re all singing it together in the morning mental music stream (Trademark first).
I knew little of the song or the performer. Looked both up when I came home yesterday. The song, “Lose Control”, was released by Teddy Swims in 2023. June. It peaked at number 1 on the Billboard’s Hot 100 in March of 2024. News to me; it was relatively fresh to my ears but my wife knew it. Guess I wasn’t tuning into the right stations. I’d not heard much of Swims and the net tells me that he didn’t get much recognition until this song made it. Well, I’m happy he’s achieved success with it. Hope you enjoy.
Continuing my day of firsts, I must finish my first cuppa coffee, take my first shower, do my first shave and my first exercises. We’re not really ones for celebrating a new year. The shadows cast from 2024 shave our hopes for the new one. Today’s festivities won’t be about welcoming 2025. We’re instead taking an ice cream cake to a friend’s house to celebrate her birthday. I will echo what a friend passed on to me: courage.
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 