A puzzle, a monster puzzle, a heavy choking, a neglected Tuesday*

I asked recently what someone's job was, made a note so I'd remember: cloud engineer. Now when I see the phrase (I wrote it on a work thing, I see it every day), I picture an adorable cartoon about a smiling young man who works overnight designing and building clouds. 

Part of my work these days involves trolling several news sites for stories and associated words that might be interesting from a vocabulary/etymology viewpoint. The stories can't be too violent or terrible, or controversial, or generally involve Israel or Tr*mp. There can't be too many Covid ones in a row, or, you know, an overload of environmental catastrophe. Adults might read this thing, but so will 12-year-olds. Hoo boy. You're generally left with a new prime minister in Samoa and a tiny computer on a snail and an upset in men's basketball.

Yesterday I watched a squirrel fall from above, abruptly, like the frogs in Magnolia. He hit the fence, tumbled head-over-tail several times, and landed in the Hostas. I seriously thought he was dead, made Mark go check, and then investigated myself this morning. There's no sign of a body, so I guess he staggered off? The plants are thick there so I'll keep looking.

It's a trick question, they're both correct.

*Gertrude Stein is making more and more sense to me lately, which may be evidence of a brain defect?