Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
R.F.M. – Rapid Floof Movement (Floofinition) – Unexpected fast motion done by animals, often without a cause which humans readily comprehend.
In use: “As one, the sleeping floofs raised their heads and then launched a R.F.M. Debra shouted at the disappearing animals, “What’s going on,” but none of them slowed down to explain. They just disappeared into hiding places in other rooms.”
Xenofloofic (floofinition) – Fear and hatred of strange or foreign animals, or animals not normally seen in the area.
In use: “Rising up with a yowling growl, Pixie rushed the window in a fresh xenofloofic display, trying to attack the intruder floof — a small tabby with a white chest and matching mitts that Fran had never seen before — through the glass. Pixie was further infuriated that Fran went out and fed the other cat, gave it water, and checked it over for injuries and identification. The gall of her!”
“Sunshine,” the cat shouted. “Letmeout letmeout letmeout letmeout.”
This was the young one, Papi, the ginger wonder. Old Tucker, the black and white long-furred enigma, scoffed at the young one. Tucker thinks seasonally. He understands winter.
Half an hour later, Papi was at the door, shouting, “Cold. Letmein letmein letmein letmein letmein.” Tucker smirked.
My Ashlandia zone awoke to frost and fog when the sun came on stage at 7:32. The temperature was squatting at 25 degrees F. “Hold my coffee,” the sun said. Zap. Fog gone. Frost vaporized into mist, the temperature jumped up to 27 F. The sun dismissed the criticism finding him. “Earth wasn’t created in a day, you know.”
The sun is expected to take us to 52 F. We never saw the anticipated highs yesterday. Winds and humidity leaned us toward a colder side. Sunset continues its slide toward a later time, and now won’t take place until 5:14 PM.
It’s Monday, 1/23/23. We’re hurtling off of a fresh Lunar New Year to the end of 2023’s first month. Just over eleven months until the new year arrives is left.
I’m feeling good today, meaning a good mood and good energy. Hope that survives meeting reality. A hypertension individual, I track my blood pressure. This morning finds it at 127/73, fairly low for me, even on the meds. Pulse is currently 60. O2 is 98%.
With all that going for me, I began thinking about being alive and kicking. That fired up The Neurons enough that they unleashed Mr. Big with “Alive and Kickin'” from 1991. I was just back from four years of living in Germany. Now stationed in Sunnyvale, CA, I was re-acclimating to American life when the album with this song on it was released. I enjoyed “Alive and Kickin'”, finding it a sort of funky but bluesy rock sound that reminded me of a late sixties sound and played it often. Fun to sit on the porch after work, soaking in the remains of the California day, sipping a beer, music playing, reading a book.
Coffee is up. Get it while it’s hot. Stay positive. Have a super Monday. In fact, make it a super week. On me. Here’s the music. Cheers
He pads through the house though there’s little light,
Making little sound.
Confirming everything is alright,
Unwilling to let his people down.
Then he returns to the beds,
Checking everyone’s heads,
Reassuring himself that they’re fine.
And has a little to eat,
And then, relaxing, goes to sleep,
Doing the work of a floof kind.
Flooftonia (floofinition) – Pain or movement disorder caused by immobility or odd positions brought on by sleeping with an animal.
In use: “He’d slept with his head awkwardly canted because he didn’t want to disturb the cat nestled against it, so a fit of flooftonia was afflicting his neck and shoulder.”
Floofsbody (floofinition) – A person, gofer, or dogsbody who must do boring, menial tasks for animals.
In use: “Most people who live with floofs become a floofsbody, taking care of their bedding, cleaning and replenishing their food and water bowls, brushing their fur, and so on, as if their floof is their master and they are the servant.”
The moon’s visit moved beyond normal to sublime. Sometimes a clear night hosts a moon that lights the night and finds something more primal and hopeful in the mind. Last night’s moon was one of these, romantic and inspirational, a moon with light that whispers, “the impossible is possible.” No wonder a moon like that is spoken of in sentences about magic, fairies, and spaceships.
It’s January 16, 2023. It’s Monday. It’s 30 degrees F and sunny. It’s calm. It’s a new week’s start. Happy New Week! Have you made any New Week resolutions? I have. Of course I have. I don’t do NY ones, but I do daily, weekly, and monthly resolutions. You only fail if you give up trying, am I right? Some people place the week’s start on Sunday. I consider Saturday and Sunday neutral ground. The week begins on Monday and ends on Friday.
The sun pressed its presence into our valley at 7:37 this morning, coming around like it’s nobody’s business. Daylight will light us up until about 5:05 this evening. Then the sun will set and bring on dusk, followed by night. The cold front will keep our high from getting much above 42 F. Some say that rain is due but the clouds for that job haven’t checked in. Snow is visible in far fields on high mountains, appearing like cake frosting on the ridges’ pines and firs. It’s a tranquil blue-sky sight.
News continues emerging about President Biden and the classified documents found at his home and office. This turn pisses me off more than Trump’s classified doc scandal. I thought Joe Biden was responsible and this oversight, this sloppiness, is infuriating. I was in the Air Force for twenty years. With high secret clearances and active in special access programs, dealing with classified material, including stuff that was Top Secret with special qualifiers, including nuclear war plans, launch codes, attack plans, and intelligence materials, I was frequently the Top-Secret Control Officer, the unit security manager, and also often the OPSEC/COMSEC and COMPUSEC manager. I took it seriously. My peers, commanders, and those we supervised all took it very damn seriously. I was appointed as an investigator several times when processes failed or people violated the governing regs and laws. Trump’s conniving to keep some classified documents ‘as his own’ insulted our efforts to keep the nation safe by properly protecting such material. Joe Biden’s sloppiness — or worse, as the investigations are only under way — undermines our systems as well. President Biden has at least acknowledged that what has happened is bad, unlike Trump, who dances and shouts, trying to deflect blame and responsibility, squeaking out ridiculous justifications for what he did.
Okay, off the soap box. Today’s music is “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood”. I went with the Animals version of 1964. Besides being the version seared into my memory by radio play repetition, I’ve always liked Eric Burdon. I also enjoyed the band’s keyboard use and the gritty blues sound they brought to their performances. The Neurons decided on this song and put it in the morning mental music stream after conversations with the cats. They were asking for something and I didn’t understand what it was. The felines’ insistence was the final driver for Les Neurons. Listening to them, Eric Burdon’s voice just rose from the depths of memory to sing, “Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.” And there we were.
Try to stay positive. I know it can be tough. I feel less than positive on many days. Right now, I’m positive that I would murder a cup of coffee so I’m heading to the kitchen for that black brew. I’m excited just thinking about it! Here’s the music. Hope your week takes you to new heights. Cheers
UFP: Unexpected Floof Presence (floofinition) — Condition where an animal shows up or gets involved without any announcement or invitation.
In use: “Clipping his toenails was stalled by UFP when his cat, Tucker, came over and started rubbing against his hand holding the toenail clippers and then started rolling around on his foot.”
Floofagogy (floofinition) – The science and art of teaching animals.
In use: “After he was rescued, Buddy Guy, a big tabby Tom, acquired knowledge of floofagogy and started instructing kittens and ferals being fostered by his new human about how to be a cat living with people.”
Michael Seidel, writer 