Tag: cats

Tuesday’s Theme Music

The sun bulled its way over the horizon and into Ashlandia’s sky a few ticks before six AM. It’s Tuesday, May 9, 2023, and 45 degrees F out there. Rain deliveries through the past five days have encouraged the town to show off multiple greens. Jade, emerald, pine, leafy, grassy — the greens flourish under the immaculately blue sky. Not promising anything, the weather criers say, but it’ll be in the upper sixties today. The sun’s end time in Ashlandia’s environs will be after eight this evening.

Went walking yesterday, a favorite pastime. Two miles, one and a half of it in steady rain. Lovely. Got home wet with rain and sweat. Lovely. Felt good to be back in the rain and feel the sweat dripping and rolling, plastering my hair under my hat.

I continue scoring on the dream front. Last night brought visits from Sean Penn and Brad Pitt. Woke up chuckling to myself, mumbling, that was a great dream. Then I went through it, writing it all down after I got up, one of three dreams covered in today’s dream journal entry.

The cats are adjusting to the improved weather. So are other cats. Thus there was floof showdown on the front porch. A young gray cat has been showing up around the neighborhood for the last two months. Seems healthy, but just going around doing feline business. They’ve encountered Papi the ginger wonder before, but apparently last night was a surprise for the two and face to face. It’s post event speculation for us. We only know that the floof warnings went off like air-raid sirens for the Battle of Britain. Dashing to the front door, we saw the two. Of course, Tucker, the black and white lord of thunder heard it all and galloped out, too, shouting, “To battle.” Seeing the situation, gray cat departed. Papi pursued but lost the trail. He and Tucker took up stations to ensure they’d be there, should the interloper return.

Today’s music comes from “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel”. We’ve been watching it recently and have plowed into the third season. The song, by the Poppy Family, is “Where Evil Grows” and was put out over fifty years ago. I heard it on the radio a few times back then before it disappeared. But it shows up on television shows and movies once in a while, never on the radio, that I ever hear. Anyway, hearing it enlivened The Neurons, and they plugged it into the morning mental music stream, advertising it as nostalgia. The song’s writer is Terry Jacks, better known for “Which Way You Going, Billy” and “Seasons in the Sun”.

Ah, the train is rolling through, tooting its own horn, ensuring everyone is aware of its royal self as it rumbles through town. Stay pos, keep living the good life and fighting the good fight, wherever it may take you. My efforts are taking me to the coffee. Here’s the tune. Give it a listen. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

I’m counting down the days to Friday. This is Friday, so Friday’s a week away. Seven days. Then I’ll be counting down again.

Calendars help that. Instead of counting down to Friday, we count down to a date. Today is May 5, 2023, Cinco de Mayo. There will be some joy and celebration going on, parties and drinking and eating. Socializing. Dancing. Then we resume the countdown to the next special date. Mother’s Day, I think, in ‘Merica. May 14, 2023. Although several family birthdays are between now and then.

Spring is firmly in control this week. The cats are enjoying it, in the mid-forties at night, fifties to sixties during the day, a little dribble of rain. Early sunrise, late sunset. Blossoms out, leaves returning, people ogling trees’ pink and whites, exclaiming, “Aren’t they pretty?”

Feeling a little tired today. A dream flotilla sailed on and on through the night. Out of nowhere this morning, The Who were summoned by The Neurons to perform “You Better You Bet” (1981) in my morning mental music stream. The Neurons aren’t admitting to anything about why the ’81 song is playing.

Coffee is in order. Breakfast — oatmeal with nuts, seeds, raisins, and cranberries — has been et, along with a pinwheel pastry which my wife made, puff pastry and honey with crushed walnuts and pistachios. Most tasty.

Stay pos. Keep counting the days. Cheers

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Floof Fog

Floof Fog (floofinition) – Human mental condition when worries or activities involving an animal prevents them from thinking of, doing, or recalling other matters.

In use: “She had a list of things to do but succumbed to floof fog when she sat down to read a book and the cat jumped up and joined her. Floof fog set in and the two were soon snuggling and asleep.”

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Using my keen powers of deduction, I observed that yesterday was Tuesday. Therefore, today must be Wednesday.

I reported my results to the chief. She downed whisky-infused black coffee that was probably brewed before the first Gemini rocket launch and gave me a gimlet eye. “Not bad, rookie.”

Today is Wednesday, 5/3/2023. The temperature God is blessing us with a 47 F temperature. The rain God is misting us off and off, while the sun God winks in and out behind the cloud God’s offerings. “We expect it to reach 65 today,” a weather dude tells me on the QT. A little after six bells was rung, the sun rolled over Ashlandia’s horizon albeit beyond a cloud wall. We’ll hear eight bells in the evening before the sun lives us in her wake.

The felines have been fed, and approve of their morning meal. It’s a wet meal enlivened with a few tablespoons of warm water. They love the combo. Tucker’s repast includes his meds. In fact, that’s how the warm morning meal was established, by medicating previous cats who needed meds but battled taking them.

Gordon Lightfoot passed this week. The Canadian musician/singer/songwriter’s end of life probably isn’t news to you, but the knowledge was swirling around in my thoughts, along with weather observations, so The Neurons spooned “Early Morning Rain” by GL into my morning mental music stream. A vote was taken with the cats and it was chosen as today’s theme music.

Coffee is almost done as I’m behind schedule this morning, a victim of helping a friend. Stay pos, and be the master of your domain. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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Flooftalk

Flooftalk (floofinition) – 1. Speaking done by animals.

In use: “The dog, cat, and birds engaged in flooftalk — the fish may have been saying something, too, for they were avidly eyeing the scene from inside their aquarium — but Brenda had no idea of the topic, looking for intruders and seeing nothing, even as she asked the animals, “What is it? What are you guys talking about?” Like most flooftalk which she overheard, she never learned what was being discussed.”

2. Imperfect or altered manner of speech people use in addressing animals.

In use: ‘Her dog greeted her with a polite bark and heavy tail wagging. “Did you miss me, boy?” Jill replied in flooftalk, bending to pet the pug. “Who’s a good dog? Who’s a pretty dog?”‘

3. Conversations about animal health and behavior, or about observations regarding animals.

In use: “A flooftalk broke out every evening as Mitchell shared with Kevin the latest humorist episode of their foster cats.”

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Spring showers slap Ashlandia. Sunshine forfeits the day to rain and clouds. Though it’s mid-morning, lights are turned on. A train’s horn haunts the quiet wet streets as a train glides through town on its metal path. It’s Tuesday, May 2, 2023. 47 degrees F now, the mid fifties is possible, the weather wranglers tell me.

Rain doesn’t please the cats. Tucker wanders, singing for sunshine to return. Papi showers me, questioning noises, alerting when he sees another cat walking toward him. “Hark! Who goes there?” Papi challenges. Tucker issues a lazy glance. Papi mutters, “Oh, it’s you,” and scurries off.

Today’s theme music comes from Jill Dennison’s post about a Chicago song called “You’re the Inspiration”. Hearing it reminded Der Neurons of another Chicago song. Maybe because it’s May. My wife and I went to the same high school. She was a year behind me. In May of her senior year, 1975, I was in the military and we were engaged. She was our school’s May Queen that year. Stationed just a few hundred miles from her, I came ‘back home’ for the event. One of the first slow dances we shared together was to a song called “Colour My World” by Chicago from 1970. Hearing it, I can smell and feel her. Then she asks, “What are you doing? Are you sniffing me?”

“Yes, I was sniffing you,” I reply with a sarcastic snort. “You’re so full of yourself. Why would I be sniffing you?”

“Why are you sniffing me?” she answers. “Do I need a bath?”

We’re still together despite lots of turbulence. I think we’re just too damn obstinate to walk away, although we’ve tried twice.

Coffee’s rich smell is calling from the other run. Stay pos and own the day. I’m just renting it, myself. Here’s the music. “Make Me Smile” is included in the video. Cheers

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Contrafloof

Contrafloof (floofintion) – Actions, behavior, or sounds by an animal that are counter to expectations and confuse others.

In use: “With the door open to the outside and plentiful sunshine and warm air, the house rulers contrafloofed their human beans by selecting to nap in the house.”

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The Floof Body Problem

The Floof Body Problem (floofinition) – In households with animals, the floof body problem is the issued encountered when an animal or floof is asleep or comfortable on an individual who needs to move.

In use: “Once they adopted two cats, Mel and Karla started encountering the floof body problem as the new boys found comfort on the humans’ laps, stalling efforts to get up to eat or pee, or just move because part of them had gone numb.”

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FISS

FISS – (floofinition) – Floof Impaired Sleep Syndrome; condition where rest is disrupted by animals. Usually associated with housepets.

In use: “Between Tucker hunting down Michael’s hand for some nocturnal loving and Papi’s demands to go out and back (times four), Michael sometimes suffers FISS and needs a cuppa coffee just to start feeling human in the AM.”

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