Déjà Floof(floofinition) 1. An animal who reminds people or other animals of another animal.
In Use: “When she saw the kitten available for adoption, Rose experienced déjà floof, because the little character looked just like her old cat, Smudge, which she’d lost the year before.”
Recent Use: “Papi looked nothing like Quinn but the way Papi sometimes behaved frequently triggered déjà floof.”
2. A sense of experiencing or enduring an event with an animal that happened before.
In Use: “The sequence of his dog’s declining health triggered déjà floof for Bob, who dreaded what he knew was going to come.”
Recent Use: “Déjà floof descended on Brenda when she saw her husband notice the hungry young stray cats. Animals in need were always finding him, reducing him to a big softy ready to do everything to save them.”
Hearing something — can’t even saw what it was — today when I was in the coffee shop writing, I suddenly see a forgotten dream from last night. Really, just a shard. First person personal point of view, I’m driving in a car along a winding country highway. Leafy green trees blur by on either side. It sometimes seems like someone is with me but that’s inconsistent. I mostly seem to be alone.
Everything is going smoothly. I’m on a long road trip. Ahead is where I’m going to leave the country highway and jump onto the Interstate. The first road is climbing and turning. I split off. Cresting a ridge, the on-ramp veers left and goes down a steep hill and into intense banking as the ramp joins the Interstate and the Interstate goes left. Sunshine bathes the cars and roadway.
I won’t be on this road long, just a few miles. As I hit the banked curve and merge with the traffic, I press the brake pedal and recognize, I’m not slowing. Speed picks up despite greater pressure on the pedal. I announce, “I don’t have any brakes.” Someone in the other seat replies, “What?”
I repeat what I said and lean their way. But no one occupies the seat. I mutter, “I’m not on the road long. My exit is just ahead.” I can see it, a long, lean hill that ends at an intersection with a traffic light. “But I’m going to need to stop. I’ll add some brake fluid when I can. I think that’ll fix it. First, though, I need to stop.”
The car hits the exit ramp. It’s flying over bumps. Grinning, beginning to laugh, I kick out the floorboard. “Just do it like Fred Flintstone.” I put my feet down onto the cement road. Pressing the soles down with all my strength, I drag the car to a stop.
Floof Rocket(floofinition) – A stunningly fast animal. Origins: United States, 1980s
In Use: “Each kitten displayed unique attributes, but the little female initially called Ruth Bader Kitsburg soon revealed she was a floof rocket, surprising everyone with her explosive speed.”
In Use: “After climbing the fence, it was like the beagle was catapulted away as his owner shrieked for Chester to stop.”
Recent Use: “Claire loved getting into the fenced backyard, becoming a floof rocket with the zoomies.”
Had to replace the overhead bulb on the stove. It’s for one of two lights setting on either side of the exhaust fan, below the microwave, above the range.
As I’m removing the old way and going through the usual questions of what watts, what size, all that, I see that instructions for replacing the bulbs are printed on a label right there by the exhaust. Only problem for me is that this required me to be on the other side of the stove to read it, you know the rear of the stove, the part residing against the wall.
Boy, someone was thinking hard when they made that decision.
Floofrade(floofinition) – An animal who is a close associate, confidante, or companion.
In Use: “Many people shut in with illness or social isolation often bond with an animal who becomes their floofrade, alleviation their loneliness and buoying their spirits.”
In Use: “People rage about which make better floofrades, cats or dogs, a silly argument, as many people — and animals — easily have both canine and feline floofrades, along with birds, hamsters, turtles, and wildlife like squirrels, crows, deer, and chipmunks.”
Recent Use: “Social media is heavy with stories about how a found floof becomes someone’s floofrade and saves them.”
Good morning to all you fellow solsters, riding Earth as we race around the sun. It’s a fine and blustery sprinter day in Ashlandia, where coffee shops and bookstores are above average. Sunshine is bursting at the seams today, Saturday, February 2, 2024, although I don’t know what seams. Just an expression I picked up from Mom eons ago. I challenged her, what seams, when she used the expression on something without seams. “It’s just an expression for something really big,” she replied. “Use your imagination.”
The cats love the sunshine but dislike the cold and wind. See, despite the sun and an outside temperature of 47 F, that wind changes the feel index, and the cats know it. This is strongly true in the shadows, and both Tucker and Papi ended up declaring, the paw with this. Though, of course, Tucker tried once and knew while Papi had to go out and come back four times to verify it was better outside.
Objective one in selling the house is underway. The house was washed yesterday. Second task is the scrapping and minor repairs. Third is the actual painting. Then we move to objective two, landscaping.
The cats’ reaction to the power washing was interesting. Tucker went to his bed spot, thoroughly washed, and went to sleep. Papi, however, watched and then distanced himself from the house. Impressively, as soon as my wife returned from her exercise class, coincidently when the painting crew left, Papi raced past her into the house when she opened the door. Straight to the food bowl the poor floof went, scarfing down kibble to make up for being food deprived for over two hours.
Today’s song is “Hand Me Down World”, a song released by a Canadian rock band, The Guess Who, back in 1970. Though more known for their hit, “American Woman”, the band had a number of other hits and I enjoyed them. The Neurons plugged this into my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) today fifty-four years later because I made the mistake of thinking about something that was hand-me-down in the kitchen, a pie server.
I feel the same now about the song and its intentions as I did fifty-four years ago. Basically viewing it as a protest against the way things are, the song argues for change for the better. Remember that this was the cold war era, when the US and USSR and their respective allies stood ready to fire off nukes at one another in the name of deterrence. Remember, too, the pollution filling the skies, turning cities like Pittsburgh into midnight on sunny days. The Civil Rights Movement was storming across the nation, the Vietnam Conflict was still underway, and protests against business as usual in politics was a regular feature of the nightly news. Look up the history of the 1960s and you’ll read about protests in the streets and on campuses. Remember segregation and integration, the Detroit riots, the Chicago 7, police brutality, and the 1968 Democratic National Convention? Then, to cap things off in 1970 were the Kent State National Guard shootings. The 1960s were also when President John F. Kennedy and Senator Bobby Kennedy were assassinated, along with MLK, Jr., and Tricky Dick Nixon was lodged in the White House. This was the era of tune out and turn on as the hippie culture rose.
There was a lot of other things happening in that troubled era of change. All that’s the iceberg’s top. So, yeah, thirteen years old, I was ready for change, and embraced songs like this calling for it. Although we’ve made a lot of progress since then, the GOP is ready to go back to that bullshit. We’re still dominated as a nation by racism, sexism, discrimination, and the patriarchy. We’re still fighting for equality and justice for all, regardless of how they look, their gender or sexual orientation, or the color of their skin. We’re supposed to be a melting pot of different strengths, weaknesses, and differences, which was what made us strong. Progress has been made but a lot more is needed.
Yet so many people’s minds are closed against progress. Many are keeping their minds closed to be spiteful. Others didn’t keep up with change and resent that their way of life has been left behind. Others are apparently so full of hate for those who are not them that they’re ready to destroy the nation in the name of their politics or gods.
Stay positive, stay strong, lean forward, and vote like your rights depend on it. I’m coffeenated but ready for more. Here’s the music. Cheers
Do you know that they still sell packages of cookies that don’t reseal? I’m not talkin’ of one or two cookies; these are packages of twenty-four cookies. It’s like they expect us to eat all the cookies at once so they’d don’t bother with a resealable package. It’d be uncivilized for us to eat a few and then set aside an open package of cookies. The cookies’ freshness must be preserved.
Those manufacturers not providing resealable packages are really cruel. Mean. Barbaric. I’m looking at you, Trader Joe’s.
The man at the table beside mine is a coffee shop regular. Don’t know his name but I know his habits.
A woman approaches him. I’ve seen her once in a while. They chat for a bit. He mentions that she’s back from her travels and elaborates, remarking that she returned to Reno to see friends and family, like, her daughters and parents still live there. “Oh, yes,” he responds, “you left everyone back there, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I love living here in Ashland. I think it’s great.”
Then he asks, “Remind me your name again?”
“Donna, and you’re?”
“Jack.”
I‘m a little amused by the sequence. Then again, I’ve gone through those sequences myself. A face and history is recalled, but the name is swimming through the mind’s lower depths, beyond your reach.
Michael Seidel, writer 