I’m on vacation. Away from home. Know what that means? Of course, you immediately reply, “It means that your bank will no longer recognize your computer.”
I wanted to ensure certain deposits had been received. They were due from the Federal gubmint. Due to my distrust of this current direction of said gubmint, I just decided to allay concerns, log on, and check them.
“We don’t recognize this device,” the bank’s website exclaimed. “We want to send you a code to your email address attached to this account. Enter the code here.”
Sigh. Okay. I’ve been through this sock hop before. Go log into the account, which is actually my wife’s account. Can you guess what happened?
“We don’t recognize this device,” the email’s website exclaimed. “We want to send you a code to your other email address you listed. Enter the code here.”
Oh, bother. Logged into the other email account, which is also my wife’s. Note: all this was being done in the name of the joint account which we designate as belonging to my wife.
“”We don’t recognize this device,” the email’s website exclaimed. “We want to send you a code to your other email address you listed. Enter the code here.”
GRRRRR and double-GRRRRR. Screw it, I told The Neurons. This will wait until I get home next week.
BFF (floofinition) – Shorthand for ‘best floof friend’ or alternatively, ‘best fur friend’. Origins: Internet circa 1999.
In Use: “Pogo and Scheckter, aka the infamous OrangeBoiz, were not just brothers but BFFs, hunting, sleeping, eating, and playing together through all cycles of day and night and all seasons of weather.”
In Use: “It’s not uncommon for a human to become a BFF. That was certainly the case with Merlin, who cared not a paw for other animals, but adored his BFF, Shirl, shadowing her in all endeavors.”
I’m infatuated with the expression, “It’s really raining.” It’s like we were challenging the assertion that rain is falling. “No, no, it’s really raining.” In this context, though, ‘it’s really raining’ means precipitation is falling at a heavy level.
Anyway, accompanied by my floofguard, I came in from the covered patio and traveled through the house to where my wife was sitting in the snug. “It’s really raining,” I said.
“I know. I told you that a few minutes.”
“Really? I didn’t hear you. It must have ricocheted off my ear without getting to my brain.”
“You weren’t in the room. I don’t know where you were. I said it twice, thinking that you might pick it up.”
“Well, I didn’t.” I shook my head. “I guess reception was bad.”
Floofviousness(floofinition) – A quality of a clever animal who is both dishonest and tricks people and other animals while remaining successful and respected. Origins: Boston, MA, 1840.
In Use: “Quinn’s floofviousness is an earmark of his distinctive personality, for none are as adept at sneaking up, stealing food, getting away with it even when caught, by flashing wide, bright jade eyes at his accusers.”
In Use: “Rascal’s floofviousness earned him his nom de floof when he was a puppy discovered stealing socks, shoes, and underwear, stashing it under the bed for future uses which only he could imagine.”
I took on an easy DIY project yesterday. This was a new foyer light.
The new foyer light.
This was my wife’s idea. I thought the old one was fine. We’d installed it shortly after moving in back in 2005. It worked, putting out light and everything. Click on, click off.
My wife said, “We need to update our lights. It’ll make the house look newer.”
Sure, I thought with a mental shrug. I had no reason to buy a new light but had no real reason to oppose buying a new light. They don’t cost much, and the old one will be donated to Habitats for Humanity and re-used.
We went on a light search together, an outing I found tedious and boring. I found this light and offered it as a possibility. “Let me think about it,” she answered, walking away. A little while later found her back at the light. We discussed its pros and cons.
“It’s black,” I said. “With seeded glass.” She’d specified those things. That’s what attracted me to it. I’m a hunter; she established those parameters and that’s what I sought.
“It’s flush mounted,” she said. “Can you install it?”
“Yes.” I was surprised she asked. I’m a budgeteer DIY. There’s little that I don’t think I can do, given time, tools, and video instructions. But the reality is, I’ve installed over a dozen ceiling lights in my life. The first was in Germany, where I shocked myself in an episode which will only die in memory when I pass away. I’ve been a lot more respectful of electricity after that.
So, she was out yesterday — Girl’s Night at the Movies, done at 1 PM because none of them want to drive at night. The feature was Earth Girls Are Easy. With her out, I pursued the new install. Half an hour, I figured.
I’m such a stupid optimist.
After turning off the power to the light (see, lesson learned), I pulled out the ladder and removed the old light with relative ease. So far, so good. But I needed to remove the installation plate as well; the new light and old plate did not match up. No big thing, right? Just two screws.
Here’s where WTF entered the project.
I could not get one screw to turn. At friggin’ all. Different screwdrivers were tried. WTF, over? I mean, I screwed it in. I should be able to screw it back out.
By now, my body was running with enough sweat to fill a bathtub. Repositioning the ladder a few times, I positioned myself to apply max torque. I realized that part of my issue was that the mounting plate was not perfectly aligned with the screw, and that extra pressure was hampering my efforts. So, I wedged that thing around just a little. With the slowness of a MAGAt realizing that Trump lied to them, the screw finally began turning. Of course, it’s a two-inch long screw, a bolt, really. I finally got it out, though.
The rest was as easy as eating pizza. I was just finishing as my wife arrived home.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“No sweat,” I answered.
We agreed, it looks better than the old one. The photo doesn’t do it justice. It’s a lousy camera phone’s lousy photo. But the change was startling. The other light hung down about half a foot more, so it had more of a ‘presence’. The change to this light opened up the space.
I told her all that. She agreed.
“Now we just have to do the breakfast bar and dining room chandelier,” she said.
I’d installed them. Sure, that was twenty years ago, but I nodded.
And just like that, kits and kittens, it’s Frida again. Today is August 15, 2025. A cool one in Ashlandia, the mercury’s digital movement is pointing at the low 70s at the mo, but has plans to travel on to the mid 80s. Topping it with strong but not overly potent sunshine and blue skies o’er the mountains, and a recipe for a pleasant summer day has been found.
Several dreams are remembered from last night’s delivery. Talking to myself — because I was the only one there, having been abandoned by the cat (who ate and left without a sound) and the wife (who was off to exercise class) — I said, “I had too much to dream last night.” Then I laughed. But the laugh was on me as The Neurons supplied the morning mental music stream with the 1960s era Electric Prunes psychedelic song, “I Had Too Much to Dream Last Night”. Some friend of sis owned the record, so I heard it. The take on the title amused young me but I was more intrigued by the group’s strange name. It inspired me to imagine other possible names, such as the Gas Apples and Cherry Wash. Neither of those names ever caught on with a group, so far as I know.
I noticed some good news for Trump today. With economic data piling up showing prices are rising, polls are showing that Trump’s disapproval is also rising. Many more disapprove of Trump’s performance as he took over D.C.’s police force, sending in Federal law enforcement personnel. They’re a waste there, and people outside of Trump and his band of nattering nabobs knew it. They don’t like it. This is all good news for Trump, as it takes We the People’s mind off of Trump’s relationship with Jeffrey Epstein. The climbing disapproval ratings for Trump means that less people are vocally showering him with reminders that he promised to release the Epstein Files and the Epstein List, and that he’s broken that promise. The rising PPI, Producer Price Index, which shows the cost of making things jumping by 9 percent in July, is good news for Trump because it takes him off the hook for releasing the Epstein Files and revealing how much he’s implicated in some of the crimes that the convicted dead sex offender did.
Jeffrey Epstein with Donald Trump
For the record, my web page scramble this morning has a side serving of a USA Today story:
The article reports that the Pew Research Center’s survey has Trump at a new high in disapproval: 60%. Of course, all eyes are on Russia, I mean, Alaska — sorry, but Trump kept saying that he was going to Russia when his trip was planned to Alaska, so it’s just stuck in my brain — where Trump is meeting with Putin to discuss Ukraine. Trump thinks he’s all that and more now, since U.S. Republicans let him push them around. I don’t think Putin is quite the pushover. But Putin knows Trump and will let TACO crow and lie about getting a victory without getting a damn thing.
Coffee is flooding The Neurons, and they’re eagerly awakening. Time to rock another day. May grace and peace flow over your day’s endeavors. Cheers
Mar-A-Floofgo(floofinition) – Literally, ‘sea of floofs’, a mythical place among housefloofs where everything can be scratched, destroyed, or knocked over, and be magically repaired overnight; where treats fall from the skies like rain and animals can eat as much as they want; where cans are always being opened, bacon, steak, cheese, and chicken, are always being served, where food and water bowls are never empty, and your favorite person is always there to play or cuddle. Origins: “The Live Floof Scrolls”, a set of hundreds of scrolls of ancient floof prophecies and histories, recovered between 1946 and 1956 from Floofrum Cave, and since partially translated.
In Use: “Many people see their pet floofs moving in their sleep, limbs twitching, eyes flickering, and think that they’re ‘chasing a rabbit’ but other floofs know that the animals are often visting Mar-A-Floofgo through the floof portal.” — excerpt from “Through the Floof Portal”, 1871.
Ready or not, here it is. Sunda, August 10, 2025 has arrived in Ashlandia without much fanfare. It’s brining the heat, though. While it’s 83 F here now and feels like 91 — or wait. My system says it’s 71 F. Clark’s system stakes it as 76 F. So, while it’s somewhere between 71 F and 83 F now, it’ll reach between 100 and 103 F, depending on who you believe. A few miles up the road by SUV in Medford, they’re looking at 108 to 110 F.
Last night was starry, moonlit gorgeous. Papi and I were out there observing the night. Then along came a skunk. I never saw nor heard the skunk. It didn’t directly bomb us, but its carpet bombing wove over us and chased me back into the house. All the doors and windows were closed to save us from the smell but that meant we couldn’t receive cool air to store for the day. Wasn’t until after five AM until that smell was gone enough for cooling services to be resumed. Despite all that, I slept fantastic, enjoying many uplifting, optimistic dreams.
My wife and I were laughing at a Trump Regime press statement. The headline and first paragraph tells the story: FDA regulator reinstalled less than two weeks after White House ouster.
A top Food and Drug Administration official is getting his job back, a spokesman for health agencies said Saturday, less than two weeks after he was ousted at the direction of the White House.
Vinay Prasad will return as the top regulator overseeing vaccines and complex treatments for difficult diseases, a position he lost following a right-wing pressure campaign.
Then comes a summary of the HHS press statement.
“At the FDA’s request, Dr. Vinay Prasad is resuming leadership of the Center for Biologics Evaluation and Research,” said Department of Health and Human Services spokesperson Andrew Nixon in a statement. “Neither the White House nor HHS will allow the fake news media to distract from the critical work the FDA is carrying out under the Trump administration.”
Don’t they sound like a school child? Like they’re blaming the media for something wholly of their own creation. Like it’s the ‘fake news media’, a favorite fictional monster under the bed for them, that had this guy fired and reinstated.
Today’s music was Papi-inspired. As I went through the morning feeding rituals, thinking about what I do to make and keep the ginger floof happy, Der Neurons fired up The Smithereens with “A Girl Like You” from 1989. As it played, I changed ‘girl’ to ‘cat’. “I’ll say anything you want to hear, I’ll see everything through, I’ll do anything I have to do, just to win the love of a cat like you.” Papi was moved. I could tell.
BTW, The Smithereens are named after the expression, “I’ll blow you to smithereens,” a phrase familiar to anyone who watched Yosemite Sam on weekend cartoons in the U.S. You don’t hear many use that word but I can imagine Donald J warning another country, “You do what I want or I’ll blow you to smithereens.” He is that cartoonish.
In another BTW, the only other time that this song was my theme song, it was also Papi inspired. Here’s what I wrote back in 2020.
Yeah, do that a lot, sing to the cats. I was singing “A Cat Like You,” which is based on the Smithereens’ 1989 song, “A Girl Like You”.
I’d been talking to the ginger blade, which prompted the singing. I was telling him at the time, “You’re a unique cat.” Which he is, standoffish and sweet, wanting to be closer, unsure how to do it, galloping everywhere with a fanfare of trumpets (or some it seems from his posture).
Then, though, I thought, they’ve all been unique. Some were unique in ways that made you laugh, others had unique properties that made them lovable and sweet, and there were a few with exasperating uniqueness, tetchy and frustrating. A few packaged it all.
So, to the cats, and cats like them, always unique.
Coffee is in me. Ready to rock another day. I hope peace and grace finds it way to you today and everyday. Cheers
Medflooftation(floofinition) – A relaxed, introspective state induced when relaxing with animals. Origins: 1970, California, USA.
In Use: “When Michael sits down to read, a floof often joins him, and he soon finds himself doing medflooftation while stroking fur.
In Use: “One of Brenda’s favorite moments after work was when she arrived home, kicked off her shoes and enjoyed medflooftation with her cats and dog on the sofa with a glass of wine, and light comedy on the tube.”
Michael Seidel, writer 