Tag: Cat

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Windy, sunny, foggy, chilly, cloudy. That’s Wenzda in a string of weather words. Also noisy with someone’s machine droning out a long song. Birds are scarce. Papi did a floofstep this AM, bouncing to the door when opened to gallop out, he slammed on the paws, and backed himself back into the house. He no like wind. The numbers for today, November 12, 2025, are 54, 56, and 52. Seriously. That’s what I was told is our current temp, and the high and low, all in Fahrenheit.

Mom is doing so much better now. While sis related that to me, she’s returned to texting with me, and they’re much more intelligent and thoughtful. She texts, “You’ll never know how much I miss Frank.” I will not, but my mind can give it some insights. They were together as a 24/7 couple for most of two decades, sharing meals and jokes, opinions and rants, tending each other when sick or recovering. I do get it but I won’t ever know all the ways he was there for her. I’m happy they were together, because I saw how happy they made one another.

As for me yesterday, I gut tested more food offerings and felt pretty confident that all was going well. At least, no overt reversals took place telling me otherwise. I call that a win. I’ve also noticed I have much higher energy levels now, sleep better, and think better. I still dream a huge amount but that’s something else. Bottom lining it, the surgery definitely was for the best.

Today’s music is “Love Runs Out”. That started in my head, “until the floof runs out.” I found Papi’s wind reaction very funny, which he, an austere cat with a measured gaze, did not find amusing. But when I chuckled about his reversal and sang a bit of half-remembered tune with my inserted words, The Neurons said, “Oh, that’s One Republic, here we go,” and delivered the melody to the morning mental music stream.

Haven’t checked the news. Enjoying the morning so much, I thought I’d give myself a reprieve before I submitted to seeing what fresh political bullshit the Trump Regime lays on the world. Far as I know, the Trump Epstein Shutdown of 2025 is still going on, and the GOP is giving a pass to Trump’s unsavory character and hiding his crimes, making them his accomplices. But hey, they got that Jesus thing going for them, right? “Who would Jesus be cruel to,” they ask themselves daily, and gleefully respond, “Everyone who is not us!” The GOP is a depraved bunch. Sure, there may be a few who are not, but given their silence and/or active participation of the GOP mass, they’re rarer than a daisy in Antarctica.

Epstein and Trump, forever together.

Coffee is serenading Les Neurons. Hope peace and grace find their way out of the wilderness and back into our lives. Meanwhile, here we go. Time to rock on. Cheers

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Floofswoggle

Floofswoggle (floofinition) To trick or deceive an animal. Origins: Southern United States, 17 century. First noted in print in A Human Guide to Fascinating Floofs & Their Flummoxing Fancies.

In Use: “One recent net trend shows people floofswoggling dogs with the ball trick.”

In Use: “People cutting cakes made to look like a cat in front of a cat is an example of how people entertain themselves by floofswoggling their housefloofs.”

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Satyrdaz Theme Music

Sunshine is blessing Satyrda, November 8, 2025. Today’s pertinent temperature numbers for Ashlandia read 56, 68, 49 for the present, high, and low, but my local system claims it’s just 46 F out there. The cat and I agree, it’s still chilly here in the shadows.

My pain is a downhill racer, going away fast. Did just one pain pill yesterday, end of day, and none today. Still just need to watch bending and stretching, coughing, sneezing, laughing. Feel that. And keep anything I pick up below 20 pounds. Having my gallbladder removed has brought out others’ stories. I appreciate them all. One local friend claims she had hers removed and didn’t change her diet at all. Sis wrote that one of her clients yesterday said he had his gallbladder removed, was hospitalized five days for it, and then had to go back to the hospital. So, it feels like it’s one of those, “individual results will vary” things. I’m on a low-diet for the next six months, according to my doc.

Today’s music comes from being silly with Papi. I sometimes sing to my cats (yes, they’re magnificently unimpressed by it). I launched into “Pappidio”, a song based on Phil Collins’s song, “Sussudio”. My song is about an orange cat on my mind. Phil’s was about a girl. Anyway, of course, The Neurons inserted the original Collins song into the morning mental music stream.

Trumpgames continue. Falling asleep at meetings. Showing no interest or concern when another human falls ill at a meeting. Making deepfake videos of himself, pretending to be something and someone he is not. Rational? No, delusional! TACO has announced the U.S. will not send anyone to the G20 summit. His decision is based on fake news. What else is new? Deep in his own altered reality, he only believes fake news these days. In his world, he’s a shiny example of health, intelligence, and leadership. In the real world, we see him and think that he’s on the verge of a total breakdown in his body, mind, and control.

Trump continues on his pardons spree. Republican and convicted? Wealthy and convicted? He’s got a deal for you if you’re a MAGA. Yet, when questioned about some of the people he’s pardoned, Trump indignantly replies, he doesn’t know who they are. We should all be doing all-cap blasts about this.

“DOZY DONNY FOUND NAPPING IN MEETINGS!!! AGAIN!!! Claims he can’t even remember people he pardoned!!! SHAMEFUL!!! DISGRACEFUL!!! Trump is the WORSE POTUS IN HISTORY!!! NOT EVEN CLOSE!!!”

Trump did get his wish for stopping SNAP benefits to starving Americans. Roberts Court stepped in his his behalf and overruled all the lower courts. Causing sickness and starvation among your own people is surely worth a peace prize, right? Right, that’s pure snark. Trump is worthy of the Nobel Cruelty Prize, if one was handed out. After threatening more war and attacking more Venezuelans, peace prizes to Trump will only be offered by other craven billionaires. Or he can make one up and give it to himself. That’s his standard speed. Fake it.

BTW, do you see how he labeled the Oval Office with a paper sign? That’s likely to remind him where and what it is. He’s failing fast.

Meanwhile, the record Trump-Epstein Shutdown (TES) of 2025 continues. The GOP is eager to shaft people on healthcare and will not budge from that position. The Democrats continue to insist that the tax break that let people pay lower healthcare premiums be reinstalled. As the economy spirals downward heading toward Thanksgiving and the end of the year, when retail takes its largest share of revenues and profits, the GOP are looking like Trump Chumps.

Speaking of which, remember these smirking Trump Chumps?

Leaks are claiming that the Epstein files info on Trump is much, much worse than originally imagined. To put this into Trumpspeak: “TERRIBLE SCANDAL!!! WORSE UNITED STATES SCANDAL EVER!!! REPUBLICANS ARE HIDING AND PROTECTING CHILD MOLESTERS!!! IF TRUMP IS INNOCENT, WHICH WE ALL KNOW HE ISN’T, RELEASE THE FILES!!! PROVE IT!!!”

Or something like that.

Off we go, into another day with hopes that peace and grace come around to lift us up. Meanwhile, I’ll make do with black coffee. Have the best. Cheers

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Rattlefloof

Rattlefloof (floofinition) – An animal who behaves in a flighty or silly manner. Origins: 1707, from The Book of Floofs & Other Mysteries.

In Use: “Just as the house settled for a quiet post-dinner reading and talking, the rattlefloof known as Digit galloped into the room, leaping over tables and chairs and non-stop talking before sprinting away with the sound of claws scrambling for traction on the hardwood floor.”

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Another Wenzda has shifted in. It’s October 22, 2025. We’re getting into October’s last legs. Trees are still lively with colors. That huge old oak across the street hasn’t begun shedding yet. When it does, a blizzard of gold will fall to the winds. Meanwhile, seeing its high golden leaves up against the sky’s purest blue refreshes me, and adds depths to my contemplation of what in the world is going on. Now 46 F with the heater on in the house, sunshine, a front, and clear sky will help Ashlandia breach the low seventies today.

Mosquitoes found in Iceland for the first time, says a headline. Well, surely that’s a one off. They just had some record heat. The story says that Iceland and Antarctica were the only places without skeeters. Now there’s just the southern ice cap. I hear it’s been warming and shrinking, so set your calendars. I evaded stories about bomb threats, cars ramming buildings, and other signs of increasing unrest and violence in the U.S. With familiar weariness, I read about Trump rambling through another nonsensical conversation and temper my rage that this is accepted as okay by GOP senators and his donors and minions. I slipped past war updates from Ukraine and edged around the shooting involving a marshal, ICE, and another person, who was supposed to be ‘an immigrant’. Some flirting was done with the tale of the AWS outage that crashed parts of the web over the last several days. My heart and mind were wary of delving into those stories without coffee’s strength first.

The packing for our trip is done. Papi’s minder moves in tomorrow morning. I will miss my furry orange friend. A taxi will whisk us away like refugees in the night. Fingers crossed, etc., by this time tomorrow we’ll be aloft in one of aerospace machines, heading east for Mom’s birthday, seeing family, etc. Sis sent photos of Mom’s new lair. She included the little electric fake fireplace Mom had in her living room. Mom and Frank bought it an estate sale and were so happy with it. I know Mom will find comfort in having it on, warming the air and her heart.

Dad’s birthday is next week. Day after Mom’s, the day before Mom’s late brother, a few weeks after my late mother-in-law, and a week after my brother-in-law. Anyway, I wrote Dad a letter this morning, thanking him for what he’s done for me, telling him how much I enjoy our telephone conversations and laughing with him, etc. Afterward, The Neurons felt it appropriate to insert Dido’s song, “Thank You”, in the morning mental music stream. So here we go.

May peace and grace find their way back to us. Many wonder if they still exist. I believe it’s still being cultivated in many places where protections are in place to keep it from being smashed. Till then, roll on. Cheers

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Twozdaz Theme Music

Cold and shiny Twozda Morning in October. This is 10/23/2025. 46 F in Ashland, the temperature will frolic into the low 70s with the sun’s herding. Fall’s grasp is as firm as ever, with leaves decomposing and dropping while others hang, shimmering in reds and golds.

Sis has moved Mom into her house because of Mom’s repeated falls and inability to care for herself. No one is there to help her at her house, etc. Sis meets with a real estate agent next Tuesday to pull the levers to sell Mom’s house. An estate sale is being established to sell Mom’s furniture and belongings. Not excited to return to this state, and you know what I mean. This is life. But I’m looking forward to seeing family and being in the area of my youth.

In one of Trump’s continuing rampages to show how much he hates the United States, he’s now having the physical building called the White House destroyed. As it was put in a comment on another site, I am volcanically pissed. Breathtaking arrogance. If anything proves that Trump has no sense of history and gives not a jot of shit about anything except himself, this is it. Destroying the house of We the People and replacing it with his own gaudy, cheap imitation of grandeur is disgusting and infuriating. Project 2025 is certainly well pleased and gleeful. Roberts Court is probably shrugging. They let him trample the Constitution with his overweight ego and obese body, why not allow this effrontery? Sure hope all those MAGA are happy too. Isn’t this how love for your nation is shown, by tearing down its heritage?

Approval for him falls. Disapproval for him rises. Strength to stand against him and his regime increases.

A Daily Kos post by Michael Taylor offers solid insights into the Trump Regime’s war against the United States.

Criminalising an idea: the dangerous fiction of “ANTIFA, the organisation”

Let’s talk about a magic trick. Not the kind with rabbits and hats, but the political kind, where a complex idea is made to vanish, only to be replaced by a simple, monstrous caricature. The latest magicians? Pam Bondi, U.S. Attorney General, and the broader Trump administration, who are attempting to pull off the dangerous illusion of criminalising ANTIFA.

The premise of their act is that ANTIFA is a unified, hierarchical terrorist organisation– a domestic version of ISIS – that can be neatly listed, proscribed, and its members prosecuted. This is a profound and likely deliberate misunderstanding. ANTIFA, short for “anti-fascist,” is not an organisation; it is a political belief and a movement, no more a single entity than “conservatism” or “environmentalism.”

Under cover of criminalizing a concept and calling it an organization, the Trump Regime can attempt to use all of the government’s military and police forces against United States citizens, weakly rationalizing it as part of their fight against ‘antifa’. As Taylor closes:

The real danger isn’t a black-clad protester breaking a window; it’s a government that seeks to break the foundational principle that in America, people are free to believe, and to protest, what they see fit.

Meanwhile, the Epstein Shutdown has moved into its third week, earning Trump’s third government shutdown in five years of ‘leadership’ as the third longest U.S. government shutdown in history.

Without too much surprise, Trump’s Gaza ceasefire is as successful as Trump University, Trump Steaks, various Trump casinos and hotels, and Trump Air. Trump is a magical enshittifier.

I have The Moody Blues performing “The Story in your Eyes” in the morning mental music stream. Between conversations with Papi as I explain we’ll be going away but his favorite house sitter will be here, and thoughts of Trump’s destruction, and, well, changes in life in general, Les Neurons responded with lines out of the song.

Listen to the tide slowly turning. Wash all our heartaches away. We’re part of the fire that is burning, and from the ashes we can build another day.

May grace and peace get up and going and come around to see how we’re doing. Coffee is making itself familiar to the various body functions. Time to rock it. Time to roll it. Until the next, cheers from Trump and his smirking BFF, Jeffrey Epstein.

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Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda. October 19, 2025. Rain hissed on the roof. The house heater added a rush of air. 49 F, rain is expected all day, with a temperature that peaks at 61 F. Fog has sunk its teeth into the surrounding mountains. Leafy golds, yellows, oranges, and reds glow. Papi galloped in, threw himself down and vigorously applied his tongue to his orange fur to rid himself of that accursed wet. Then it was on to food, nom nom nom.

The No Kings II protest went well. We made it an hour late. Finding parking was a Lewis & Clark expedition. Was great being out there yesterday with other protestors, waving our signs, protesting the GOP eagerness to let Trump be king, protesting Trump’s arrogance that he should be king, protesting the general shit show Trump, Project 2025, and the GOP are putting on. Felt good to know others like us are out there, and they’re standing up. Even more satisfying and validating were the cars going by, horns blowing, giving us thumbs up, holding up peace signs, shouting, “Right on.” Only heard one “Fuck you,” and one “Sieg heil.” The latter came from a woman. Both of these disapprovers were in huge pickemups.

My greatest disappointment was that most of the protesters were old folks like us. The young were in short supply. My wife reminded me that they probably have to work and to cut them some slack. Anyway, thinking about the young provoked The Neurons to bring up a Eurythmics song, “All the Young (People of Today)”. Came out in 1981. Odd vibe to it. I thought, wow, that’s a weird one to come up with. I know it from listening to Euythmics CDs. Don’t think any radio station ever sent it to my ears.

Mom’s new habitat enclosure at sis’s house is getting developed fast. Small dorm frig has been added. A microwave. Hope Mom will be happy there, along with warm and safe. There was a whole late-night misadventure on Friday night. Mom thought she heard someone trying to get into her house and knocking on the door, calling her name. She was there alone. Hiding in her bathroom, she texted her daughters and grandchildren to call the police for her. Why she didn’t do that for herself is one aspect of the mystery. As it was after midnight, most were asleep or away from their phones. Mom’s texts went unnoticed until a grandson, Michael, saw it. Then 911 was called, etc. Police showed up, knocking on Mom’s front door. She wouldn’t answer. She was hiding in the bathroom. The police reported deer were on the small stoop outside of Mom’s room, eating off a tree by the house. 911 had to call my sister, who called Mom to tell her what was going on.

Coffee is singing to The Neurons once again. The day has grown brighter. The temperature has climbed to 50 and if you lean forward and squint at just the right angle, there’s a small blue patch struggling to break out of the cloud eggs containing it. Which reminds me. Hope peace and grace break out of their shells soon and bless us with some visiting. Here we go, on into another day, another week, another…well, you know. Cheers

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Twozdaz Theme Music

Papi’s scowl said it all. The orange boi was not happy with the weather’s latest ideas. Rain, no sunshine, chilly air? That is not orange boi weather! How dare they change the weather. He looked at me to change it back. “Sorry, dude, I wish I had that power.” Although, after I said that, I’m glad I don’t. Think of the pressure that would put you under, having the ability to change weather.

Unmollified, Papi went out and sat and sulked in protest to what I was doing to him, relenting to come in after a few minutes of protesting gave me some something to think about.

This is Twozda, October 14, 2025. 45 F now under clouds that are effective sun blocks, 66 F is the dreamed of high temp for today. Don’t know if that’s possible with that quilted sky cover. Sort of a bland gray-burnt-marshmallow tone. Not pretty. Bland, toneless. I’m surprised that car manufacturers don’t jump on it. “Ugly sky”. They seem to want to offer colors which are different these days. I find many of the new colors strange. Uninviting.

Today’s song is “Burning Heart” by Survivor. I honestly lack insights into why this song this day. The Neurons started it in the morning mental music stream as I hunted down breakfast. I tried backtracking along my thinking and peered back into the dim remnants of dreams and conversations for clues but nada answered.

Coffee is percolating through my body’s systems. Time to move ass cheeks. Hope grace and peace find us. It’s my eternal hope. For today, at least. Cheers

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Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda, October 12, 2025. Though we’re still weeks away from Halloween, winter feels like it has its claws into us. Trees still adorn trees but the air is 45 F and just feels friggin’ icy, with heavy clouds maliciously clotting the sunshine. 56 is the foreseen high but I’m dubious about clocking in anywhere close to that. Showers are expected.

The Epstein Shutdown of 2025 continues. I was reading about its impact on farmers in Iowa and Wisconsin. They’re preparing for next year’s activities. As a farmer related, one season ends and you immediately begin planning the next. With the shutdown, the agencies which usually assist them in that process are empty or unresponsive. So next year’s crops are being impacted. That’s Trump/Project 2025 foresight for you.

We’re listening and watching videos which protestors are putting together from Chicago and Portland. Videos show people peacefully protesting when ICE fires on them. ICE agents are often laughing. One protestor said that he overheard agents telling each other, “I don’t know why we’re here.” Yep. Another videographer said that ICE seemed disorganized and lacked leadership and guidance. Not a surprise, given the sloppy manner in which the Trump Regime functions.

Despite a bevy of dreams and some conversations with Papi about the weather, today’s song comes from a convo with the wife. Out shopping, light rain spit down on us. I said something about having an umbrella. She sang some of Rihanna’s “Umbrella” back to me. When the car was started, the song began playing on the radio, which had us laughing at the coincidence. The Neurons got hooked. As I checked the weather outside the window, they returned the song to the morning mental music stream.

My wife mentioned Tom Holland’s performance in a lip-sync battle in which he performed “Umbrella”, so I’ll include that for fun.

Coffee is visiting my body again, lifting me to get out and get stuff done. Like yard work. Cold, wet yardwork. Oh boy! Hope peace and grace are unearthed soon and spread into your life and mine. Here we go. Cheers

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Fridaz Theme Music

Rain just kicked in here. Dark and gloomy. Feels lifted from a gothic novel. All the blinds are up but sunshine has vacated its post. The rain though, is a comforting background song. Fall is here, the scene outside proclaims. Get used to it.

We will. Then we’ll tire of it, and the great conveyor belt will carry winter to us. We’ll get used to that and tired of that and hit the holidays and a new year and then start looking for spring. It’s almost a tradition.

Papi is tres upset by this weather change. His downcast expression has WTF written large. I tell him, “Stay in, you’ll be happy.” After desultory outdoor expeditions, he agrees and find a space to sleep.

48 F now, we won’t see 60 today. This is Frida, October 20, 2025, in Ashland, Oregon. Ashlandia.

Trump didn’t win the Noble Peace Prize. I am so happy that the deranged bully didn’t win that honor. The prize went to María Corina Machado, from Venezuela, who worked to restore democracy to that nation. Can we get her up here? Trump’s head would explode. And congratulations to María Corina Machado for a well-deserved honor.

Back in ‘Murica, Speaker Mike Johnson (R-Hell) spoke, refreshing the impression that he’s an idiot.

‘Angry’ Johnson lashes out — says Dems need to be ‘physically separated’ from Republicans

This from Alternet:

“We’re so angry about it,” he told Fox News. “I mean, I’m a very patient guy, but I have had it with these people,” the Speaker said, emphatically, of Democrats. “They’re playing games with real people’s lives.”

Yeah, that jackass is angry that the Democrats are not caving and that more voters are realizing that the Epstein Shutdown of 2025 is a Trump GOP gift, a product of the Regime’s Misery Machine. Trump and the GOP control Congress and the Oval Office. The self-proclaimed ‘great negotiator’ can’t make a deal. As Donald J. loudly claimed back before he shut the government down three times, a government shutdown shows a weak president. He’s sitting on three. How weak does that prove him to be?

Personal news from home isn’t good. Mom’s BF, Frank, is in pretty bad shape. Hard to get details through the grapevine. Broken ribs, the hip that was replaced, heart issues, and dementia. What he’s enduring has him acting contrary to who he usually is, and he’s being violent, mean, loud, and angry. They have him restrained to a bed, someone watching him 24/7, and mitts on his hands so he can’t pull out tubes and try to escape. Little sister is pulling duty helping Mom. This is a sister who has two children. One of them lives with her. Her daughter’s BF also resides with them. She’s a grandmother who takes those duties seriously and spends time and money on her grands. She works, exercises, cooks for her family and Mom, and also keeps the books for her husband’s plumbing biz. She’s a dynamo and I’m pleased she’s there to help Mom. Other two sisters apparently have some medical problems of their own. They’re not discussing their issues but they’re not visiting Mom much.

Today’s music arises from a conversation with my orange floof, Papi. The weather has him restless. So I sang, “Lay down Papi,” to him to the tune of “Lay Down Sally” by Eric Clapton. “Lay down Papi. You don’t need go outside. I’m been trying all morning long just to pet you,” is what I sang to the boy. Natch, The Neurons were all over that, pumping “Lay Down Sally” into the morning mental music stream. And yep, that’s “Duck” Dunn on bass in this video.

Coffee is cruising through the alimentary system, delivering its needed cargo. Hope peace and grace pops out soon and visits for a prolonged period. Meanwhile, stay strong. I’ll try doing the same. And away we go. Cheers

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