Hello, friends. It’s Friday, January 19, 2024, which means we have eleven months left in this year to get things done. 52 F here right now, we’re again trapped in a spring-like day in Ashlandia, where the valley is narrow and the days are pleasant. Striated clouds in shades of blues and grays are offering a promise of more rain and a high two degrees further up the thermometer.
Read news about a killing done with a hammer, new titanium dentures for a celebrity (just 850K if you want to get some), a messed up speech by Trump where he displayed confusion and forgetfulness, and an Oregon teen who witnessed a winter accident and saved a child. In the last, the individual said she saw a car slide on ice into a power pole. It killed three of the people in the car but she saved the fourth, a nine-month-old. Meanwhile, the US is in conflict with Houthi rebels in Yemen. The Houthi have been launching missiles at ships in international waters, and the US has begun conducting air strikes against these missile strikes. Will it escalate? Escalation seems to be the pattern in vogue when it comes to violence in this century but I hope not.
Out of nowhere this morning, The Neurons have offered “I Am A Man of Constant Sorrow” by the Soggy Bottom Boys to the morning mental music stream (Trademark all wet). The song has been around over one hundred years. I’d known it by others like Bob Dylan, Judy Collins, and Ginger Baker before this fictional singing group was featured in the movie, O Brother Where Art Thou? in 2000, but truly enjoyed the fake performance of a delightful song. Anyway, it came up today so it’s my theme music. These at the musicians and singers who put it together for the movie, although there are some substitutions here.
Of course, I sang a modified version to my cats, which could be called, “I Am A Floof of Constant Hunger”. As usual, they were not impressed. They seemed quizzical about why I was singing to them when they really wanted me to feed them.
Be strong, stay positive, and lean forward. Here’s the music. I got coffee and a cat sleeping by the ‘puter, but I need to put some pants on. Cheers
Gray marble day on this Wednesday, January 17, 2024 in Ashlandia, where the fishing is swell and the biking is above average. Temperature is 44 F. High will be 51 F. Rain is expected. We’re again dodging the severe weather hitting most of Oregon. Knock wood. Hope everyone stays safe and warm where the gnarly weather crashes in.
My friends diverted my morning plans. One went into the hospital to have her gall bladder removed. She’s sore but recovering in hospital. Her spouse is elderly — what we call the oldest old zone, or OOZ — and lives at home but has multiple health issues which have curtailed his independence. He’s still mentally willing and able; it’s just his body, specifically his lungs, skin, and muscles, declaring, nope, not today. Anyway, while she is in the hospital going through her surgery and recovery, he lost his Charter Spectrum net connection due to weather. The outage ended but his net connection returned not. So I went and hooked him back up and took care of some small matters for him.
Put me behind on the writing day, though, which severely displeased the musi (yes, that’s my plural for muses, just FYI). (I know, using musi engendered more typing and reading.) Then, just like yesterday, no room at the coffee shops. There’s a huge new demand for coffee and many patrons are then sitting with computers, like they’re writing or working or something. I guess I must suffer for my art. I also guess that I may need to move up my work hours and get out of the house and into the coffee place earlier.
“Werewolves of London” by Warren Zevon from 1978 is filling the morning mental music stream (Trademark spent). This song started out as a dedication to Tucker sitting on my lap. I frequently sing songs to my cats, who stare back in flat displeasure that I’m assaulting their ears and minds with these silly offerings. My version for Tucker was “Werefloofs of Ashlandia”. It numbers among my favorite floof songs. Getting more particular, I also sing, “Orange Boy”, for Papi, which goes, “Orange boy, orange boy, whatcha gonna do when they come for you,” and the theme song to a cartoon series from last century, “Underdog”. Of course, I sing it for the underfloofs, but the words need little changing: “Speed of lightning, meow of thunder, pawing all for their own plunder, Underfloof, Underfloof.”
Stay pos, test negative, be strong, and lean forward. I’m trying to do the same but sometimes trying is tryin’. Coffee has been consumed but I’m afraid more is needed. Heres’ the music. Cheers
Whipperfloofer(floofinition) – An animal who is floofsumptuous and does not follow norms nor expectations. Origins: Middle fourteenth century, Middle Floof, from Anglo-Floof.
In Use: “Shocking the establish dog, who was used to being the alpha beast, the whipperfloofer took over his bed and basically ignored him when he ordered them to leave.”
In Use: “The three puppies were shy at first but quickly demonstrated they were whipperfloofers, bounding around the room like spirited winds and taking over every inch of furniture within the hour.”
Recent Use: “A man shared a video of a whipperfloofer entering his house, look around, and decide this was their place.”
Floofpike(floofinition) – 1. A route or pathway established by or for animals for their regular use. Origins: Middle English, first use observed in 1678.
In Use: “The backyard floofpike was busy with a big dog following a little following a cat who was following a squirrel.”
In Use: “The cats have established a floofpike through the yard into the neighborhood’s yard through a hole in the fence. Other animals attempt to use it but the cats declare that it was made for cats’ private use.”
Recent Use: “The first big snowstorm of 2024 had people establishing a floofpike for housepets to go out and do their business.”
Today is Sunday, January 14, 2024. Spacious sunshine is floating bright and happy through our valley, though grim gray clouds hover here and there as if they’re waiting to strike. We wuz out on an early food shoptz (shopping blitz) and I rejoiced in all the sunshine. It’s 51 F, just a hair off today’s expected high of 52 F.
The cats are digging the sunshow, striking calendar-worthy poses in the bright light. Papi, being the high energy being he is, all light and fur, keeps going in and out, seeking escape from boredom. I play with him every time he comes back in but he bores of that, too. There’s just no pleasing some floofs.
Well, we’re fortunate here. North of us an hour as the car rolls, some houses are without power and experiencing temperatures in the twenties. Friends living in the suburbs of Portland are enduring no power with a temperature of 26 (which feels like 3). Ouch.
While on our shoptz, I heard “Need A Favor” by Jellyroll from 2022 on the radio. The Neurons just took it up and tucked it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark damned) where it remains this afternoon. TBH, its country sound has a definite rock sauce on it. But The Neurons were really taken by that line, “I only pray when I ain’t got a prayer.”
Stay strong, be pos, test negative and keep leaning forward. Hope you and yours are safe and comfortable wherever you are, whatever your weather. Cheers
Floofpetition(floofinition) Competing among animals to win favor, treats, or rewards. Origins: Unknown, first noted use in 21st century.
In Use: “The cat and dog got along but always indulged in floofpetition for their people’s attention. The cat always won because, although about five times larger than the cat, the dog had a much sweeter disposition.”
Recent Use: “Tough to say where the greatest floofpetition between the house floofs came — during Battle for the Lap, You Got Treats, or Game of Floofs.”
Saturday, January 13, 2024, has arrived with higher temperatures and heavy, wind-driven rain whipping Ashlandia (where the coffee is excellent and the parks are above average). It’s 42 F now, not far from the expected peak of 49 F. Rain has been falling all night, and the misty low, fat clouds look like they have a lot more to give.
The cats both wanted out this morning after their breakfast. Tucker settled in a dry but cold location on the front porch while Papi sought whatever drives him to wander. I managed to coax both back in after thirty minutes. When they came in, both dashed for me and I discovered Papi was soaked. I toweled him off (despite his protests and efforts to flee) and then Papi headed for the kibble station while Tucker went to the litter box.
Left home early, didn’t take the dog (don’t have one) or the cats (I have two). Coffee shop numero uno was at full cap so I went to numero dos. A prime writing location was available so I sat and began. Unfortunately, I discovered that a leak was exploring the ceiling above and splashing down. I alerted the staff and shifted sites. No good writing location was available but I found a table and set up camp. A young guy at my most preferred site. Understanding that I was on a laptop and could use an outlet, he approached and offered it to me. Such kindness. I offered to buy him something as reward but he declined.
One amusing thing was observed. I saw one barista drift through, washing off the unused tables and tidying. About four minutes after she went through, a second one went through, doing the same thing to the same tables.
Very satisfying and uplifting dreams were experienced last night. Hope everyone has such dreams in their life. Thinking about it had The Neurons plug “What Is Life” by George Harrison (1971) intorock the morning mental music stream (Trademark drifting). I get what The Neurons are doing there, because I’d been musing about life since a conversation with a friend about death the other day. Her husband worries about death and fears it. I related back that I didn’t worry about it because we don’t know if there is an ‘other side’ or the full nature of ourselves and our existence. I mean, between religion, science, and philosophy, we’ve developed some great ideas and insights about what it is. But knowledge is ever-evolving, and as we explore the quantum side of being more, we might surprise ourselves with what we learn. “I think, therefore I am,” might even apply to us after we die along paths that we can’t yet divine.
Stay pos, lean forward, remain strong, and test negative. Coffee and its bennies are already perking through my systems. Here is thy theme music. Cheers
It’s a sunny, cloudy, snowy, dry, cold Friday out there in Ashlandia today, January 12, 2024. (Ashlandia: where the snowfall is below average.) The snow isn’t falling but hazardly tossed as lumpy blankets as it unevenly melts and freezes. Roads are clear and dry. Clouds are a buff, low gray mass which sometimes permits a blinker of sunshine. It’s 34 F now, but rain is supposed to be coming as we’re treated to a high of 44 F today.
The cats are out, taking advantage of the storm lull. Though I dislike it, Papi is prowling and inspecting, looking for changes in his kingdom. Tucked in with his tail wrapped around him as a warmer, Tucker is just breathing fresh but cold air on the covered front porch’s doormat.
I’m better, thanks, already drinking coffee, breakfast already well along the digesting process. It’s interesting, too, but after Wednesday night’s BVVP experience, my tinnitus is amost completely gone. The worst after-effects is worry that it’ll happen again – especially in somewhere public — and my abdominal muscles. Every giggle, guffaw, laugh, yawn, cough, sneeze, and grunt has those muscles screaming, give us a damn break.
I perused the list of ‘not banned’ books in Escambia County, Floridayesterday. These over sixteen hundred novels, biographies, dictionaries, and encyclopdias are not banned, the county always explain, but have been called unsuitable by some and were removed for review and decisions.
From the cited article, PEN America notes (their emphasis),
“Five dictionaries are on the district’s list of more than 1,600 books banned pending investigation in December 2023, along with eight different encyclopedias, The Guinness Book of World Records, and Ripley’s Believe it or Not – all due to fears they violate the state’s new laws banning materials with “sexual conduct” from schools.
“Biographies of Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Oprah Winfrey, Nicki Minaj, and Thurgood Marshall are on the list, alongside The Autobiography of Malcolm X and Black Panther comics by Ta-Nehisi Coates. The Feminism Book was banned along with The Teen Vogue Handbook: An Insider’s Guide to Careers in Fashion.
“The list obtained by the Florida Freedom to Read Project also includes Anne Frank’sDiary of a Young Girl, The Adventures and the Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie’sDeath on the Nile. The Princess Diaries and 14 other books by Meg Cabot have been taken from libraries, alongside books by David Baldacci, Lee Child, Michael Crichton, Carl Hiassen, Jonathan Franzen, John Green, John Grisham, Stephen King (23 of them), Dean Koontz, Cormac McCarthy, Celeste Ng, James Patterson, Jodi Picoult, and Nicholas Sparks. Conservative pundit Bill O’Reilly’s two books, Killing Jesus and Killing Reagan, were also banned pending investigation.”
I have to thank Scottie’s Playground for pulling this together and providing it to us. To close, the most shocking aspect are the quotes Scottie included from Judd Legum’s coverage:
Attorney General Ashley Moody argued that the school board could ban books for any reason because the purpose of public school libraries is to “convey the government’s message,” and that can be accomplished through “the removal of speech that the government disapproves.” This is a novel argument about the purpose of school libraries.
That’s GOP freedom and democracy for ya.
For some alien reason, The Neurons were playing operator-themed music in the morning mental music stream (Trademark perplexed). Songs like “Operator” by Jim Croce, “Smooth Operator” by Sade, ”Operator” by the Grateful Dead, and “Operator” by Manhattan Transfer. The last stayed put for a longer period, morphing into today’s theme music.
Although either agnostic or pastafarian — it changes as much as the weather — I enjoy gospel music. I also feel for the search for community, support, reassurance, love, information, etc., from something beyond our daily endeavors. You never know what you’ll find or where you’ll find it when you reach out in need. Although religion doesn’t do much for me, I’m happy for those who can find their answers there, so long as they don’t tread on me or try to foist their answers on the rest of us.
On to the day. Stay pos, be strong, test negative, and keep leaning forward. I know it’s not always easy, believe me, but I’ll keep trying for those four fundamental foundations. Here’s the music. Cheers
Floobble(floofinition) – Behavior shown by animals when they appear to be caught between two or more simultaneous reactions. Origins: Internet, 2022, combination of floof and wobble.
In Use: “Hearing a noise, wanting to investigate but also eager to run away, Papi floobbled into leaning toward the sound and then doing two steps in each direction, like he was in his own square dance.”
Recent Use: “A classic floobble seen on YouTube is when an animal starts to run, then pauses and stands up on their back legs alone to see what’s happening.”
Flooace(floofinition) 1. A person who is not an animal expert or but is knowledgeable about animals from experience. Origins: Internet era circa 2003 in this meaning, a combination of floof and ace.
In Use: “Growing up with dogs and cats — her mother’s cat slept with her from the day she was brought home, engendering some mild, amused jealousy in Mom that Marla had stolen her cat — made Marla a flooace by the time she was fifteen. Everyone thought she would be a vet, but she instead went into politics because she’d decided that the world needed to change and she was the one who was going to do it.”
Recent Use: “People post lost or found animals on Nextdoor, and flooaces get online to offer opinions in the comments sections about what to do to resolve the problem.”
2. The locations where animals like to stay or rest. Origins: Text messages first noted in 2019, created from joining floof and place.
In Use: “Tucker’s go-to flooace is under the dining room table when Michael isn’t home, but on Michael’s desk, chair, or computer, when Michael is home and on his computer.”
In Use: “Being a large dog, the Maxinator enjoyed the kingsized bed in the master suite as his flooace, but the rules said he wasn’t allowed in there, so he had to go to his secondary location, on his huge bed by the family room patio door.”
Recent Use: “Some cats, such as Marley — yes, named after the dog in the book and movie — like to find the most unusual flooace to sleep, like it’s a competition to upstage other floofs.”
Michael Seidel, writer 