Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Proflooftiate (floofinition) – To gain or regain an animal’s favor or goodwill. Origins: Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanack, 1752.
In Use: “There was a reason for Spitfire’s name. Once she was upset, Shirley could only proflooftiate using Spitfire’s favorite treats until Spitfire relented.”
Floofpidity (floofinition) – 1. The quality of making unintelligent decisions or acts regarding animals. Origins: Worldwideweb, 1999.
In Use: “Realizing he’d forgotten his drink, Brett set his plate of sandwiches down on the coffee table in an act of supreme floofpidity, and rushed back to the kitchen, creating an opportunity for the Puppy to gobble up Brett’s lunch.”
2. A dumb idea or decision by an animal.
In Use: “Demonstrating grade A floofpidity, a dog attacked a child, only to be counter attacked and chased off by Tara the cat.”
Floofnamor (floofinition) 1. An animal’s love or fascination for something or someone. Origins: 14th century Middle Floofish.
In Use: “From early on, Olive was floofnamored for all things liquid but especially a running tap, batting the water with her paw and lapping it up with her long, pink tongue.”
2. A human’s strong or excessive infatuation with an animal.
In Use: “Before she was walking, Rachel grew floofnamored with the dogs, who willingly stayed beside her as protector, friend, and surrogate parent while the infant grabbed their noses, ears, and fur, and cooed at them.”
Chilly. Rainy. Foggy. Those were yesterday’s descriptors. It didn’t get to anywhere near the theoretical high of 51 F around my zone of life.
Today is sunny. Windy. Warmer. 52 F. Clouds and blue sky mingle like it’s a company holiday party. The high will be 62 F.
Today is Sunda, April 27, 2025.
My wife and I are setting up for a trip to the coast. Our usual house sitter is available. Reservations have been made. We have worries. This will be Papi’s first time being alone. He knows the house sitter. Doesn’t run from her. Let’s her pet him. But with spring pointing toward summer, the wildlife has grown busier. Raccoons come by. Coyotes, bears, cougars are out there, along with opossums and skunks. Rats and mice. We’ll set things up as best as we can and cross our fingers.
Today’s music is “Bloody Well Right”. 1974 song. Supertramp. I was singing it to myself after different topics traversed the sticky gray zone this morning that I call thinking. Not much of it was of import. Just the usual forays into novel writing, fiction I’m reading, cat, family and personal matters, health, politics, news, government, dreams, and memories. I’ve been experiencing a wealth of dreams, for instance. What does it all mean? And I’ve set up a dental appointment for some overdue work. Then there’s house repairs. Call to Dad. Text to Mom. Mother’s Day card and gift. Flowers, candy, food, or…what? It’s all underlined by what is perceived as a time of drastic change in the country.
Coffee is singing its songs to my cells. Sunshine is shining. Plans are underfoot. So is the cat. Hope you have an awesomely solid day, devoid of crises and problems, and maybe with some good food. Here we go.
Cheers
Floofcrastinator (floofinition) – Someone who puts off doing things because of an animal. Origins: From Flooftin floof (animal), crastinus (“of tomorrow”), from cras (“tomorrow”). First noted us 1920, United States.
In Use: “Sherry had every intention of picking up her list and getting things done around the house, but Temper found her while she was sitting on the sofa and fell asleep against her looking so adorable, Sherry felt like the Universe was telling her to be a floofcrastinator. It turned out to be a great nap, too.”
In Use: “Ella was normally an orderly and organized person who immediately did things but as soon as she adopted a rescue dog, she became a floofcrastinator, at least until she could re-prioritize to spend time with Penny while still getting everything else done.”
Papi cat is not happy. I know this because of the shouting meows. Not just the sound. He faces me and leans into it. Stretches his jaws wide. He’s Maria Callas using his diaphragm to belt it out.
“I know,” I tell him.
Rain fell all night. Sometimes in buckets. Papi is not a friend of rain. We also re-installed the pet door. In days past, Tucker slept on the mat in front of the pet door. That meant no other animal was entering. With Tucker gone, we decided the food bowls needed to be moved further away.
Background is, we had a buncha cats at one point. They usually didn’t get along. So we had three feeding stations. One in each the laundry room, the office, and the bedroom. In the bedroom, the feeding station lives by the wall beside the sliding door where the pet door resides. We thought it needed to be moved further away so that some passing animal didn’t sniff the kibble richness and come in through the pet door. Since Tucker is no longer guarding the pet door.
But all that change has Papi irritated. Pour the rain on top and he feels that the world is a cruel and injust place.
“I know,” I tell him. “I had to change my diet due to high blood pressure. It sucks.”
“Meyeah,” Papi wailed back.
Yes, it has rained all night. It’s wet and chilly this morning. 44 F and rain. The high will be 51 F and rain. The low will be 41 F and rain. The rain is good for the land, we remind each other. The pep in our pep talks is petering out, though. Everyone wants sunshine until they don’t. Then we want rain. Until we don’t. It’s the cycle of complaint. Weather version.
This is Saturda. April 26, 2025. Still spring in Ashlandia. And typical Ashlandia spring weather.
I’m a little miffed. I had yard plans. I’d been making progress. The rain has placed a pause on the cause. I can’t do the things planned, cause rain and electric power equipment. I’ve read somewhere that they are not a good combination.
I’m happy it’s Saturday. The news cycle slows on the weekends. News doesn’t stop but less people are reporting and airing it. Much as I’d like a break from it, we need to stay vigilant against the Trusk Regime’s evil. That evil goes 24/7. Just when you think their empathy has bottomed, they show a lower side. Most recently, they deported a two-year US citizen. Because, Trump. He no like the 16th Amendment. So he decided to ignore it. Because that’s what you do if you dislike laws. It’s the Trump U.S.A. way.
Snark alert: The other ‘good’ news is that the number of measles cases keep rising. Looks like RFK Jr’s plans just can’t get an angle on stopping it. Probably because he eschews using science and medicine.
Final bit of irritating news. Trump says he’s talking to China about the tariffs. China says, “No, he isn’t.” Either side could be lying. Given Trump’s record, I believe it’s him. Trump is lying. Yet again.
Puttering through the kitchen at pre-coffee speed, The Neurons raised a line in my head. “Let me remember things I don’t know.” I further slowed. I know the line. That wasn’t the line. That was a mondegreen: a misunderstood song line. Urging The Neurons into more effort, the song and real line punched in:
“Let me remember things I love, Lord.” CCR. “Green River”.
Coffee has made a safe landing in my body. Dressed, fed, and caffeinated, I am re-animated for another day. Hope you have a day that works in your favorite. It can happen. Cheers
Infloofminate (floofinition) An animal who does not have a name. Origins: Circa 1999, Internet.
In Use: “They variously called the infloofminate stray visitor, the orange boi, kibbles (for his love of food), the visitor, and window cat (for his habit of appearing at a window and staring in, especially when it was cold and wet) before they officially adopted him and dubbed him Cheddar.”
The Ashlandia spring churn has us in her grip. Chilly to cold nights. Depends on your body’s personal heating and cooling system. Was 39 F in the night. Now it’s up to 54 F. Heading to 68 F. Wind loaded with mountain iciness regularly clocks in. It’s sharper in the shadows.
I’ve been cutting stuff, pruning plants, weeding, trimming back grasses. Papi has taken to nesting in one of those spaces. Early sunshine washes it for a few early morning hours. Used to be Tucker’s spot. Before that, it was Quinn’s, and before them, it was the Scheckter spot. I think I still sometimes spot their ghosts curled up, sunning there in the early hours. I’ve always called it the cat’s sun nest.
Man, it was a clear and gorgeous night here last night. I traipsed out midnightish each to taste the chill and discovered a star filled black sky. Serenely quiet and fresh, a briskly solitary moment. After I was there about three minutes, Papi called out to me and trotted along to rub against my legs. “What do you think of the stars?” I asked. He purred.
Music today comes from the Beatles. The Neurons have “Helter Skelter” playing in the morning mental stream. Kicked off by a dream. I had the same dream before, but the dream went into an extended edition. Awakening, realizing it was a repeat — dream repeats already, so early in the year — The Neurons cranked up the song’s lines that go, “When I get to the bottom, I go back to the top of the slide, where I stop, and I turn, and I go for a ride, till I get to the bottom and I see you again.”
The song always called up ideas about going through the same thing again, again, once more, one more time, etc. A repeating dream was a natural dive board for The Neurons to use to jump into the song.
The song got stronger as a I read news accounts for Trump lies and declarations. “I never said that. I’d never do that.” Etc. Here we go again.
This video is Paul McCartney playing it in concert sans the other Beatles. I saw him perform it in Germany once. It’s lively energetic song.
That’s my opinion. Loads of friends and family were not “Helter Skelter” fans. When I played it on the stereo and cranked it to close to stadium levels, my little sisters’ expression looked like they’d just eaten candy covered with dog fur. “What is this?” the older asked. I laughed.
Coffee is lifting me higher again. Hope something is lifting you. Here we go, rocking and rolling on into the future. Then we’ll do it again. Cheers
Flooficulture (floofinition) – The science, art, or practice of cultivating an environment or attitude to make and keep animals, especially pets, healthy, happy, and satisfied. Origins: 15th century, Middle Floofish, from Middle Floonch, from Flooftin flooficultura, from floof animal + cultura cultivation.
In Use: “Many animals find that new owners are not well versed in making pets happy, and must educate their people in flooficulture.”
In Use: “Going all in with her new pets, Simon and Theodore, Karla surfed the net for flooficulture tips and insights, and quickly spent a fortune on toys, gadgets, treats, beds, and foods.”
In Use: “Entering through a window, the savvy ginger boi took in the setup and realized that these people knew their flooficulture and would make excellent new ‘owners’ for hisself.”
Do not click on this post unless you enjoy cat humor. Otherwise, it’ll be wasted on you. But as a cat guy, I laughed. Thanks go to the Bluebird of Bitterness for collecting and posting some humor. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 