Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofyophile (floofinition) – An animal lover. Origins: Floofish, 1820s, in France.
“In use: “Born into a family of floofyophiles, it was no surprise that Riley became a floofyophile at a young age, but her industry to save animals by the time she was ten years old was newsworthy.”
Mood:
Rain claims the sky again. May not stay. Bursts break out of clouds, and then the sun breaks show with a flash of light. Brisk winds burst through the valley, shaking the trees and sending shivers through my knees, before rain kisses us again.
This is spring. This is Friday, March 29, 2024. It’s 50 F and several y’s are present — sunny-cloudy-rainy-windy-chilly. Think we’re within 2, 3 degrees of the thermometer’s upper level for this March day. Snow comes and leaves on the northern and eastern peaks over the last three days. How’s the weather in your life zone?
First, a floof update. Tucker continues a trouble-free recovery. I knocked off the opiates. Just thought he was being over medicated. He’s eating, sleeping, and moving well. I make him a cup of grain-free kibble softened with hot water, and he dives into a bowl like an osprey coming down from the sky on a hunt. After eating today, he gently washed his face and paws before tucking back into nap position. Fingers crossed that this all continues.
The Neurons loaded “Alone” by Heart into the morning mental music stream (Trademark plummeting). The song was invited into the MMMS by the line, “No answer on the telephone.”
I’d called a friend. No answer. No voice mail or answering machine. Seems ominous.
I talked to the cats about it (they were the only ones around). They agreed with me, no answer on a telephone call is surreal in this era. Some mechanized or e-response is typical if a live voice isn’t heard. But to hear the ringing continue…strange. I called again to ensure I had the number correct. I let it ring until twenty rings had filled the air. Twenty rings, an absurd amount, before giving up.
The song commenced in the MMMS a few seconds after I relayed my experience to the floofies. We — me and The Neurons — went from there. Personally, I always enjoyed the hard rock ballad. Then again, I seem drawn to hard rock ballads. Could be that they appeal to my romantic side, or the solitude inculcated by my work and travel draws me to that sort of music.
Persist to be positive and strong, lean forward toward progress and a better future, and Vote Blue. Coffee has caffeinated my brain cells, so I’m good to go. Here’s the music. Oh, wait, it’s sunny again, and the wind has become a friendly zephyr. For now.
Now it’s cloudy. Wind is beating the coffee shop umbrella. Rain veils are crossing the mountains.
Cheers
Cryptofloofency (floofinition) – Mostly related to pets, animal activities, behaviors, and sounds which seem unique, mysterious, or unusual to other, most especially people who live with the animals. Origins: 1983, United States.
In Use: “One huge learning curve for people extending hospitality to floofs is cryptofloofency, strange things the fur critters like to do, such as galloping through rooms, sleeping in sinks, singing at midnight, opening doors, and going nuts over squirrels and other critters seen in their domain.”
Mood: flooful
Round and round, here we go, another March in another year (yeah, still 2024), another Thursday in another week. It’s the 28th. This month of this year is almost done, and with its passing, one fourth of 2024 is history.
Chilly, cloudy, rainy. That’s my adjectives for today. Snow capped the highest peaks around the valley to the north yesterday. The rain just fell and fell.
Rain has stopped today. After dropping to the upper thirties last night, we’ve crept up to 51 F degrees. That’s close to the day’s upper limit.
The big news from my perspective is that Tucker survived his surgery. Back home, he’s recovering, mostly hanging out in the office where we hang out, by the space heater where my wife hangs out. Slept with me last night, purring away. He’s doing well after having all teeth removed due to refractory stomatitis gingivitis. The RSG often led to inflamed, bleeding gums for my boy, and just became progressively worse.
Recovery involves a great deal of painkillers. Painkillers mean sleep. Buprenorphine two to three times a day. A mild opioid, this makes Tucker glassy eyed. It’s on top of his other painkiller twice a day.
He’s also on a soft food diet for the next two weeks. That’ll be a challenge for the kibble chief. The black and white fur fellow loves his kibble.
Today’s song is by Ratt. “Round and Round” was released in 1984. It’s Ratt’s highest charting song, and it’s probably the best known number for the group.
It began going around and around my morning mental music stream (Trademark in the mail) after reading news. First, again. These days just go round and round. I cycle through the news cycles. Other than war, murder, and disasters, the rest of the news seems to be on permanent spin. Trials. Elections. Misinformation. “Biden is too old! Biden is too old!” Give me a break.
Round and round, Marjorie Taylor Green is threatening to unseat a GOP House Speaker again. Same ol’ antics that she did before. Hey, dear, what goes around comes around, you know? Just ask Ronna McDaniel, previously of the RNC, more recently of NBC News. The stuff she spread during her RNC days — just doing her job, officer — has come back to haunt her.
Or ask President Biden’s predecessor. Now facing prosecution for the things he did and said. Round and round, what goes around — you get it, right?
BTW, for those unfamiliar with Ratt, they were glam rockers, part of the big hair movement of the 1980s. The big hair glam rockers had lots of hair. We could often barely see their faces because of their long, frequently curly, wavy, fluffy, and well, BIG, hair. One of our past rock movements. What goes around is supposed to come around again, right? It is happening among the TikTok Alphas. They like fat leg pants, which is what I wore in the early 1970s. And I hear many embrace the old-style phones.
Well, we’ll see if big hair glam rock returns from the grave.
Stay positive, hang on, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Please. Coffee has cometh and is being consumedeth. Here’s the nostalgic video. Hope your day is a powerful one for you.
Cheers
Mood: subjective
Hi world. Began this Wezday, March 27, 2024, with a recap of weird dreams.
The ‘Wezday’ thing came from this cute little girl visiting the coffee shop today. Looked like she was two. Dressed in yellow, with pink plastic boots with pictures on them. She was in line with her group a few yards away. I don’t know what was being discussed by the adults but she suddenly announced in a huge stage voice, “I know tomorrow is Wezday. Tomorrow is Wezday. I know.”
That bought a laugh from many of us.
It’s rainy today, 50 F, with an expected high a few degrees north of 50. Blue sky and sunshine are both shying away from our valley for the moment. They might emerge to show they exist later.
Left the house at 7 AM to take Tucker in for his surgery. Arrived there ten minutes early. He was not pleased. He’d been cut off from eating last night at 10 PM. I fed him the best that I could because I know what was coming.
Today at 6 AM, he went to where his kibble usually resides. When he discovered it wasn’t there, he began grumbling. It was soon as loud as approaching thunder, if the thunder had a meow sound embedded it. I get him back between three and five this afternoon. My fingers are crossed, etc, that all goes well. I have a good feeling about it, but these things can go awry fast.
So after my dream recap, I was talking to myself, Tucker, and Papi. Papi wasn’t going to be fed until after I left. My wife would give him food. I wasn’t eating until I came back from dropping off Tucker. Just a sympathy thing; wasn’t fair for me to eat if he couldn’t.
Anyway, while having this conversation, I might have employed the expression, “I’m not crazy.” Within a short while, The Neurons had Rob Thomas of Matchbox Twenty singing, “I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell,” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark evaporating). The 2003 song, “Unwell”, sat well in my pscyhe as music for today. Give it a listen and let me know what you think.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote. Is that too much to ask? Ask me again after my coffee, okay?
We returned from the vet office yesterday. Tucker was released from his carrier. He trotted free and then turned back. At the carrier again, he insistently sniffed its door. A few steps away were taken and then he sat down and commenced a serious washing session.
Papi approached. Tucker paused his washing. The two cats tentatively touched noses, Papi’s pink on Tucker’s black.
Floof note: these two felines never touch noses.
Papi seemed to be verifying, you went to that place? And Tucker seemed to be replying, too right.
My sympathy, Papi answered, moving backward. He wandered toward the kibble bowls.
Tucker resumed cleaning.
Ventfloofloquism (floofinition) An animal’s production of sounds in such a way that locating the true source seems impossible. A creature practicing ventfloofloquism is a ventfloofoquist. Origins: 1775, Flooftin; vent (to speak) + floof (animal) + loquism (location elsewhere).
In Use: “Kelley heard Prism meowing but either the little furball was a ventfloofoquist or he was meowing and then darting off to another place to confuse her. And it was working; she was confused — confused, exasfloofrated, and annoyed.”
Confloofdiction (floofinition) An expectation and counter-expectation about what an animal will do, which are simultaneously correct and wrong. Origins: Anglo-Floof and Latin, first noted use in 14th century.
In Use: “Feline confloofdictions such as biting the hand which feeds them and then cuddling with the person they bit is one large reasons cats seem like floofnigmas.”
Mood: rebellious
This is Saturday, March 23, 2024 — 032324.
Winter’s turn continues to erode our confidence that spring has actually arrived. Rain. Heavy clouds signaling more rain may be falling. 51 F with milky, intermittent sunshine. Could be bleaker but something about this pulls me down.
I’m not alone in feeling a downward tug. Before I mentioned it, another friend announced that he felt blah and blamed it on the weather change from sunshine and warm air to cold rain. Others quickly agreed with him. Several wondered if we’d get snow. Then came memories of March and April snowstorms fro previous years. I volunteered the time I remembered walking down the street in early July and looked across the valley at the snow on Grizzly. Wow, the others exclaimed.
The cats are back in the house. Papi tried the front door, side door, and back door, in and out times three, before acknowledging with plaintive meows, there’s no sunshine. The sunshine is gone! Where is the sunshine? Stop the rain. Make it stop.
“Can’t, little buddy,” I answered the ginger blade. “You’ll need to endure, just like us.”
Tail up but a sulky look over his shoulder to me, he headed for the bed.
The Neurons loaded the Clash into the morning mental music stream (Trademark floundering). The song is “The Magnificent Seven”. Now, the original 1960 movie which went by that name was a favorite of mine but was a remake of a 1954 Japanese movie Seven Samari, released in the US as a film called, The Magnificent Seven. The 2016 remake was called The Magnificent Seven. It wasn’t bad. I suspect the next edition of The Magnificent Seven movie will be set in space, or maybe another planet.
Anyway, the Clash’s song, “The Magnificent Seven”, is a punk statement on society’s states, especially as people’s buttons are pushed to conform, go to work, and enjoy the entertainment provided. Keep up with what’s going on by buying the latest consumer goods and you’ll be happy, because you’ve been told, that’s how it is. Seems fit to me as we plug in, turn on, and tune out, feasting on whatever powers our pleasure centers: shopping, cooking, games, sports, hunting, television, movies, books, fashion, TikTok, the net.
Well, now I’m depressed. Thanks, neurons. Think I’ll go escape into a novel. Shut up, neurons. They’re so eager to laugh and mock me when I act hypocritically by conforming to the mores and norms. Bloody hell.
Stay positive (ahem), lean forward, be strong, and vote. Think I’ll nurse more coffee and escape into my writing. It’s a safe place. Here’s the video. Cheers
Mood: Fridifferous.
Greetings to my life companions on Earth. We are annotating today as Friday, March 22, 2024.
Spring is supposed to be here, but last night’s air was thick with wintery smells and feels. The palette for this morning’s sky had no blue but a great range of greys. Some were smoothed across with a palette knife. Others were swept around with fan brushes, merging and muddying the shades and shapes.
The sun wasn’t included as an element in the sky. 54 F now, some say we’ll surmount 62 F today. Doubts are stirring as rain falls and the clouds maintain a firm front against sunlight.
Multiple dreams are recalled from last night’s sleep session. One emerged almost intact as a short tale about cats and their nine lives. Others were recorded. Might share one of the others.
My wife told me that today’s news was so depressing. I had avoided reading news by focusing on my dreams and reading a novel which is engrossing me, so I asked, “What news?” She shared the projected profit which Donald Trump might realize with the Truth Social/DWAC merger. The rich get richer.
Then there was The Donald’s claim that he has $500,000,000 in cash. Does it surprise you if I told you that’s contrary to what his lawyers have been saying in public and telling the court? Does it make you question that if that’s the case, why hasn’t he been able to get the bonds he needed? Certainly makes me wonder these things. I’m not an expert in any of it though.
As WaPo notes, “Trump’s suggestion sharply contrasts what his lawyers told a New York appellate court earlier this week that it would be “a practical impossibility” for him to post a bond covering the full amount. His lawyers cited rejections from 30 bond underwriters in their request for a stay of enforcement on the judgment.”
I bet this will raise some questions in the Judiciary.
Shouldn’t be a surprise with the quagmire of thinking in my head that The Neurons delivered Asia and “Only Time Will Tell” to the morning mental music stream (Trademarked over a million times, maybe a billion times). We’re wanting on the outcomes of several Trump trials, along with a few SCOTUS rulings, and trials for other Trump-aligned individuals, like Rudy G. and Mike L. Only time will tell, we often tell one another.
Anyway, Asia’s song was released in 1982. Easy, simple lyrics, and a robust but progressive rock sound made it a hit.
Stay positive, lean forward toward a better future, and vote. Coffee has energized The Neurons. Here we go. Enjoy the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 