Geofloofgy(floofinition) – Science which deals with the location of animals on the Earth. Origins: 1735, from New Flooftin.
In Use: “People with floofs often needed to become geofloofy experts to that they could figure out whre their little fur demons might be tucked away napping or getting into floofchief.”
In Use: “With her well developed understanding of Martin’s geofloofgy, Marge went through the house, opening drawers cupboards, checking windowsills, peeking under furniture, checking the laundry basket, for where the little floofdrel was managing to hide.”
Start the coffee. Saturday has landed on us in Ashlandia, where the students are young and the population is old.
A light rain fell this morning. After the smoke cleared to moderate levels last night, I opened windows with dreams of cooling the house. As we slept, the smoke returned. I awoke congested at just before six. Heading to the bathroom to spray saline up my nose and blow it out, my ears captured the ping ping of rain on the exhaust fan hood. Checking it out, I discovered Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) out on the patio, watching a mild rain descending. Papi was not far away but showed less interest in the rain.
It’s August 3, 2024. 94 days until the 2024 elections. 71 F here at this point, today’s high should stop short of the upper eighties. With this rain has come mouldering gray clouds. Smoke still obscures the mountains. We’re skewing toward moderately unhealthy air from wildfire smoke at the moment.
Today’s music will be “Freedom” by Beyonce. Reading that Vice President Kamala Harris is rolling it out as her campaign’s theme music, The Neurons and I agreed that it would be good theme music for today. I admit that I’m not overly familiar with the song. Released in 2016, I saw her perform it duing the Superbowl halftime show one year. There is no doubt the powerful, energetic song and its lyrics fit the fighting spirit VP Harris needs to win. It’s also a fitting album for a year in which the GOP is cutting back women’s rights and shackling their freedom. Hell, JD Vance even suggested making it a requirement that women have papers for traveling between states.
Freedom! Freedom! I can’t move Freedom, cut me loose! Yeah Freedom! Freedom! Where are you? ‘Cause I need freedom, too! I break chains all by myself Won’t let my freedom rot in hell Hey! I’ma keep running ‘Cause a winner don’t quit on themselves
As a boomer, I still surf and share to FB. Mostly to keep up with ex-military friends and co-workers, and track my family on the other side of the country. I share things I write, too.
But I mostly, I ‘like’ things on Facebooks, things being ‘posts’, shares, videos, and photos. I share some of these things which I ‘like’. You might be surprised that I support animal charities and causes, especially cats. Cats and I have been together since I was a young toddler.
One of the FB groups I follow is VOKRA, the Vancouver Orphan Kitten Rescue Association. They posted, with photos, the tale of Jinx. They’re trying to get Jinx (or maybe it was Binx) adopted. I ‘liked’ the post about the sweet tabby kitten. It only had eleven shares, so I clicked share, to help spread the story and get Jinx or Binx adopted. That’s what social media is about, isn’t it?
Boom. Facebook told me they’d removed it. It was offensive and contrary to community standards. They even accused me of (gasp!) posting something just to get ‘likes’.
Posting things to get ‘likes’. WTF is the world coming to?
My wife and discussed this with WTF amazement. What does FB think it is if not a vehicle for ‘likes’? More critically, how the actual fuck did this post about a kitten available for adoption violate FB community standards?
I hate to reveal this to Facebook, but if cats and kittens and adoptions are against FB community standards, there are huge swaths of violations going on right now. They’d probably be scandalized to learn how many posts are about cats and kittens. In fact, if FB goes after posts about kittens and cats, they will seriously deplete their membership, posts, and shares. They might as well pull the plug on telling each other ‘happy birthday’ while they’re at it.
Truthtfully, I suspect that some poor Facebook AI bot is just having a bad day and removed a post that shouldn’t have been removed. Maybe their companion AI bot left them or they caught their partner AI bot in a compromising configuration with another bot doing forbidden codes.
I don’t know. I’m just speculating. Hope someone takes that poor AI bot aside and communicates with them over a cup of coffee.
Coffee always helps.
And yes, I will post this to Facebook to get likes. Ironic, isn’t it?
Floodiac(floofinition) – The definition of a band of twelve floofstellations dictating the properties and characteristics that floof display. Origins: Middle Flooflish, borrowed from Floofglo-Froof and Flootin. First noted use in the 14th century.
In Use: “Based on how their animals race around the house, many people mistakenly think their floof is a Zoomacorn, but in floofuality, zoomies are just one trait among many that assign floofs their sign on the Floodiac.”
In Use: “The way that her cat, Marmie, loved water, Karin knew her girl was born under one of the water signs in the Floodiac, like Aquafloofius.”
In Use: “Chester’s dog’s amazing balance had Chester believing that Cormac’s Floodiac sign was Libfloof.”
Another day in Ashlandia, where the night temperatures are hanging round the fifties and the daytime highs take us to the upper eighties. Like today, we’re looking at 89 F. Air is clear, too for the time being. That can change with a wind shift. With so many fires, and several fast exploding across the landscape, I expect our air quality to dip.
As for the date, it’s Sunday, July 28, 2024. Almost time to put the month to bed.
Cats are okay. Wife is doing fine. I’m doing well. Olympics are dominating the news cycle. Trump snuck back in there with more of his anti- whatever stupidity. The man is anti so many things. The latest turn confirms that the guy who wants to be dictator on day one (ha, ha, remember that laugher) is also assuring Christians that if he wins, they won’t need to vote again. Ha, ha, so funny – not. It’s not a joke to his MAGA supporters; they say he tells it like it, that he speaks for them. So there it is, the MAGA GOP is against democracy. It’s been a growing trend in the GOP for the last quarter century.
Now it’s their brand.
Gotta song stuck in my head. I heard “St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion)” on the radio yesterday, and it just excited The Neurons. Apparently enthralled by it, The Neurons have been playing the 1985 John Parr almost non-stop in the morning mental music stream (Trademark in motion). Sometimes they also include vignettes from the movie which featured the song, St. Elmo’s Fire. A Brat Pack film, I’ve never seen it. As several of the actors were also in The Breakfast Club, snippets out of that film also circulate in my head.
As far as the phenom known as St. Elmo’s fire, I’ve only seen it in museums and films. It fascinates me.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Keep democracy in America. I’ve had coffee. Now a little more is on the menu. Here’s the music. Feel free to sing along. My Neurons do. Cheers
Flouddite(floofinition) – An animal who refuses to adapt or change. Origins: early 19th century Floofland.
In Use: “Simon le Meow was such a flouddite that when the new dog came into the household, Simon would act like the dog wasn’t there and just go about his business, baffling the dog, who really just wanted to be friends.”
In Use: “Being a bonafide flouddite, Caramel wouldn’t eat from her bowls when they changed her eating set up, forcing Carol and Pat to put the bowls back where they had been.”
Floofcipitate(floofinition) – Something happening abruptly that was triggered by an animal’s actions. Origins: early 21st century Internet.
In Use: “A loud ‘woof’ in the house’s soft stillness floofcipitated the cat leaping up, Pat knocking his glass of wine over, and Linn dropping her phone. Laughter followed.”
It’s Sunday, July 21, 2024. Quiet rules the neighborhood. The cats and birds are all chilling. Haven’t seen any deer, cougars, foxes, or bears. I guess they’re off chilling somewhere, too.
Wildfire smoke crashed the scene yesterday. Gaining density, we were soon sitting in a yellow fog at 96 degrees F. The smoke carried out Air Quality clear up into the unhealthy zone, finishing just short of hazardous. The cats were forced in, the air purifying machine turned on, and the windows kept closed as sunlight fled and night swarmed in.
Dawn brought relief. Temperatures wre huddling in the low sixties. Smoke mildly grays the blue sky but visibility is much better. I’ve cautiously opened a few windows. Doesn’t smell overly bad. I experience some eye tearing and itchy now and and again, then a dripping nose, and a bout of sneezing, but overall, it can be endured. All the weather sources are agreeing that we’ll touch the high eighties as our temperature’s ceiling. That’s a welcome change.
I don’t know where the smoke is originating. California has several going. Southern Oregon where I live is relatively fire free. East of the Cascades delivers a different story, as major fires are going in Oregon on that side, especially by the Idaho border. Hope all stay safe and the fires are soon contained.
“Danger Zone”, a song by Kenny Loggins and associated with the movie Top Gun is storming the morning mental music stream (Trademark threatened). I don’t know why The Neurons pulled the 1986 song from the mental archives for this morning. It doesn’t seem overtly dream related. Could be smoke & fire thinking, I guess. I don’t believe that it’s a political manifestation as I swerved away from politics this morning.
It’s a kind of strange video. 80s music, 80s clothing, 80s dancing. But they’re my people. LOL.
Have a better one. Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music and there’s the coffee. Help yourself. Here we go. Cheers
Dry, hazy, hot. Not as hot as many U.S. places. Haven’t really checked the rest of the world. I’ve been mired in my American experience.
It’s 83 F in Ashlandia, where the sky is postcard blue and the sun beams down with frying bacon intensity. Gonna get hot today. How hot is questionable; one source said, 99 F. Another gave us a quote of 95 F. Somewhere in the upper nineties is my guess.
Tomorrow will be cooler, they’re saying. Fingers crossed, they’re right. Some are saying, 89 F will crown the temperature. Others declare, 91 F.
I’d love something in the high eighties for a change. I’m working on the side yard. We have a couple raised beds located there but chose not to use them this year, because we had other plans. While I was away in May, this yard grew thick with weeds. Now they’re all straw yellow and ripe fire fuel. I’m trying to remove it all but the heat gets in my way. Also, I grab this stuff and it just breaks away. Getting rid of it is going to be an involved process. I’m considering watering it to green it and then pull it up.
Papi and this jay have something going on. Papi is our ginger blade, a rescue floof abandoned when neighbors moved away. He and they apparently didn’t get along well. He’d started visiting us and socializing. Originally calling him Meep because of the soft sound he made, we started feeding him and giving him shelter when the weather went to shit. Eventually, he was ours and his original folks were gone.
I don’t know what precipitated it, but whenever Papi leaves the house and goes into the backyard, this jay flies over and screeches at him. I mean, it’s relentless. This started several days ago but this morning’s episode seemed more intense. I had the bedroom slider open to let the cool night air in, with the screen closed. Papi came in and ate just before six and went back out, and that jay started up like a frenzied MAGA fan. I could see the bird on our table yelling at Papi. Papi didn’t seem to be doing anything in response.
Anyway, out of that, The Neurons conjured the 1972 song which Billy Paul had a hit with. See, I’d said to myself, Papi and that jay have a thing going on. I guess The Neurons thought that segued well with the song’s lyrics, “We have a thing going on.” So now I have the song playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark scratched). If you listen to the song as I did, I sang along but subbed the words, “Papi and the jay have a thing going on.” When I sang it to Papi, I swear that he rolled his eyes and walked away.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is mingling with the tastebuds. Time to jam. Here’s the music. Cheers
Floofroad (floofinition) – 1. The path taken by an individual to meet an animal, or vice versa. Origins: early 21st century Internet.
In Use: “Mark’s normal floofroad for finding strays is just to open the front door. It’s like, if he opens the door, they will come. And he can never turn any away.”
In Use: “Many people’s floofroad to a new floof addition to their home begins with a visit to an animal shelter, but more frequently in this Internet age, the floofroad begins on social media.”
2. The course an animal takes to get from point to point.
In Use: “Papi’s floofroad is never straightforward, as he engages serpentine routes to go from door to door — except when he’s heading for his food bowl. Then he’s like an arrow shot from a bow.”
Michael Seidel, writer 