Flurrsday’s Theme Music

Sunrise’s 0650 arrival showed us, flurries. They’re on the smallish side but they’re earnest. With the thermometer flailing at 33 degrees F, the flurries pile up. But it all melts when they take a pause. Most be demoralizing to work so hard, dropping millions of flakes and yet see no appreciable accumulation.

It’s Monday. Feb. 27, 2023, the NTL day of February, in case you’ve not been told that February has twenty-eight days this year. Children are walking, school buses are running, parents are dropping off students and zipping off for errands, work, exercise classes. My wife went off to the last.

Sunset is due at 5:58 PM. The weather whizzes tell us 40 F is Ashlandia’s high temperature expectation.

The cats are amfloofvalent about the snow. Tucker looks out without comment. Papi demands freedom. Released to the back yard, he zips around through the flurries to the front porch and demands permission to come back in. He knows Oregon weather at this time of year, so he expects it to change, but it’s not happening as fast as he’d like. I suggest he sit down, maybe have a cup of coffee and observe the weather through the window. He replies, “Meeep.” It’s his trademark sound. That was his name. He’s sometimes referenced as the floof formerly known as Meep.

Meep and Tucker did eat in the same room this morning. That’s a remarkable achievement. Maybe flooftente is thawing. They’ve only lived together for six years. It takes time.

Tucker is doing better with his hind section but still can’t jump. Appetite is much improved, though. We took a risk last week. Bought a twenty-five pound bag of kibble from Costco. Tucker is very discriminating about what he’ll eat, like a child eyeing whatever is offered. Papi is more liberal with what he puts in his mouth. He’s like, “Food! Yes!” Chomp chomp. Neither of them like anything with sweet potato in it. The purchased food is chicken and rice.

Well, Tucker leaped into the new food with gusto. Emptied his kibble bowl and then pulled over the bag to paw out more. See? Improved appetite.

In dispiriting news from around the U.S., Republicans keep pushing to pull books from schools and libraries. Fear, you know. What will their blessed offspring learn? God, what will they see? Might see nekkid people. May even discover that everyone poops. In the name of the holy bible, we can’t have that. They much prefer blinders on their little ones.

They’re playing, “Let’s pretend.” Let’s pretend that people don’t identify differently from the genders we think they are. There are only two, you know. That’s what Jesus said, and the disciples agreed with them to a man. Let’s pretend that slavery was a good thing and that racism doesn’t exist. Thus it is that books may not reference sex, racism, slavery, and other things that make certain people ill. See, it’s only certain people pushing these agendas, a terrified vocal minority.

Okay, end snark.

Was pleased with the SAG results last night, as far as Everything Everywhere All at Once winning four honors. I enjoyed the movie and thought it deserving. Didn’t see many of the other movies, so I don’t know if my opinion is relevant.

BTW, just finished a novel, Legends and Lattes by Travis Baltree. Cited as high fantasy, and featuring a Orc swordswoman as the protagonist, it’s almost like a cozy, but it’s an entertaining and clever send-up of coffee houses as well. My wife found it and passed it on to me after she enjoyed it. I recommend it if you’re looking for a light read.

After a raucous dream night, I have “Bang!” playing on the morning mental music stream loud system. AJR released it a few years ago. It’s an interesting ditty, not about Jack and Diane, but about adulting, being responsible, like moving to your own place, filing taxes, and trying to remember a password.

Stay pos. The oaties have been eaten — they were of a sweet variety today, with brown sugar and blackberries. I have coffee at hand. Sips have been consumed. I am a go. Here’s the music. Pretend you know this song.

Cheers

Saturday’s Theme Music

A whitewashed sky met the sun as it hopped the horizon at 7:05 this morning. 36 F now, the weather goons says to us, they say it’s gonna be 49 F before the sun’s sojourn over Ashlandia ends on this Saturday, Feb. 18, 2023.

I’ve found that feeding Papi the ginger wunderfloof at 5:30 slows his roll. Yes, that’s AM. I can do it in my sleep. He gets so happy about having a little tin of something opened and spooned out. Amazing that he only nibbles five bites before declaring that it was enough and heads to the kibble. He enjoys the pomp and ceremony of wet food twice a day but he’s a kibbler at heart. Tucker eats it all. The wet food is attacked with low purrs and gusto. Very sweet and funny to watch. Specially at 5:30 AM. He reasons, if the other boy is getting some, he’s getting some, too. Then it’s back to the bed beside me for Tucker, wearing a cat food fragrance, washing himself with such rigor that the bed shakes me awake, and I think, earthquake. Naw, just a floofquake.

The Neurons are singing “(Absolutely) Story of A Girl” by Nine Days (2000). All started with a cat. Whole story begins back in the eighties and my main floof of the period, Rocky, sole survivor of his litter and a hoarding situation. He and I became acquainted in Germany when he fit in my palm and his eyes weren’t open. His mom wanted nothing to do with him but he was a true sweetfloof, total playhead. When “(Absolutely) Story of A Girl” was on the air as part of the rotations, I naturally sang “This is the story of a cat” to hijm. I mean, who wouldn’t, right? Decades later, the song was revived for Papi this morning. “This is the story of a cat, who woke me up to go out and come back.” Time after time, as Lauper would say.

Stay pos, catch the light and tame the day. I’ll get right on that as soon as my brain has more coffee. Here’s the tune. Know it? Cheers

Cell Floof

Cell Floof (floofinition) – An animal who guards, likes, steals, or uses cell phones.

In use: “Seeing the unsecured cell phone on the bench in the foyer, Tucker assumed his cell floof fur and curled up on it, allowing only a little to show, so his people could appreciate what he was doing.”

Tucker returns from his outdoor napping and sentry routine, and assumes duties as a cell floof (see it by his head?).

The House Band

My cats have started a musical band. They called themselves T.C. and the Backyard Boys.

T.C. is Tucker Cat. Black and white, he plays lead guitar and shares lead vocals with Quinn the black paws. Quinn is the brooding genius who writes their material. Their favorite songs are “Catch the Mouse”, “Watch the Birds”, “What’s that Noise”, and “You Want to Fight”.

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Quinn, on break from his musical aspirations.

Quinn plays the rhythm guitar, too, while Boo is on drums and Papi is the orange cat on the keyboards who also plays bass. Papi and Boo provide backing vocals, too.

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Papi, resting after the “Catch the Mouse” jam session

Boo – no photo available.

Playing only at night, they call their music floof rock. It sounds like caterwauling to me.

The Odd Couple On the Front Porch

IMG_0170.JPGPepper, on the left, terrifies the other cats, yowling and swatting at them without provocation or hesitation. Belonging to a neighbor, she enjoys our front porch. Tucker is an unrepentant fighter who terrorizes the other cats in the neighborhood. But these two cozy up on the front porch, stretching out and sleeping in peace, or sitting beside one another, a comfortable couple who the other cats carefully avoid.

 

I don’t know why WP insists on putting two photos in. During editing, there’s only one, but Preview or Publish, and two appear. The entire post was published and deleted. The original photo was deleted from the library and added back in. Yet, WP persists on putting two in there. I guess the God of Technology is messing with me.

 

Catflation

Little Quinn weighs a shockingly light seven pounds, six ounces. He’s mostly fur. Yet, he manages to grow larger as we sleep. In this process, called catflation, cats begin gaining physical size and mass as they sleep beside you or on you. The longer they sleep, the more they grow. Quinn ends up exploding like a popcorn kernel in size. I think he gains fifty percent more weight. I’ve tried weighing him but once a cat awakens, they revert to normal size.

As for big Boo the Bagheera, or mighty Tucker the Enigma, they become enormous. Boo awake comes in about sixteen pounds. Tucker, at fifteen pounds, is the lightweight of the two. But both easily weigh fifty pounds or more and are as big as me once they’re asleep on me or beside me for a while.

At least it seems that way when I try to move them.

Tucker’s Floor Work

The big black and white rescue will begin with a mellow leg rub and segue into gentle back strokes. Gentle purring is arising. Now some soft scratching on his forehead and the back of his neck, followed by his left ear, and now his right ear. Notice the head tilt is exactly the angle needed to provide access and issue approval.

Nicely done. Now he’s sitting and progressing to chest and neck scratching. His purr has gone deeper and more uptempo. His eyes are closed…judges always look for that as a signal of trust and contentment. Look at that marvelous neck extension! Oh, well done. You know that he’s done this before. He’s one of the best.

Now he’s executing a floor flop, followed by a floor roll and full leg stretches. Look how adeptly he extends his legs, paws and claws and then moves into an inverted back arch. His fluffy tail is straight as an arrow. He is really in the zone today.

And now, it looks like…yes, he’s exposing his furry white belly for some belly loving. And he’s putting his paws up. Look at his display of beautiful shiny white fur and the trust and tranquility in his green eyes. Oh, my, and he’s kneading the air with his front paws in a slow, cyclical motion.

Now he’s signaling that he’s done, rising to stretch and wash. Bravo! What a star. Let’s turn to the judges and see how many treats they rate this Sunday morning performance.

Judges?

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