One of my dearest uncles died this morning. He became ill rather suddenly. I didn't get to say goodbye, which makes me sad. He was one of the most kind-hearted people I've ever known. Another funeral.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
I would like to find out if this was a space station sighting.
Here's the info from NASA...looks like this could be the culprit, even though it doesn't explain the strange sparkles so far away from the center light.
I saw it again this morning in the same area, so I'm very interested to see if this is it.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
My father-in-law did take a photo of the object we saw, but as I suspected, without a massive zoom, it doesn't really look like much. You can tell it's not a picture of a star, but it doesn't appear to be anything else either.
So, anyway, all I saw this morning was a star hanging out in the same area...no blinking, hovering or speeding satellite objects.
I am all about finding a rational explanation for this, by the way. I have seen in the early morning bright reflections from airliners traveling into the dawn while it was still dark where I was, but it still doesn't explain all the other stuff. I am pretty relieved that the geometric lights were not real (I think anyway).
I'll probably never know. Weird.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
So, being the rational sort, I can't stand the fact I don't have an explanation for this phenomenon I experienced this morning.
I did discover that the geometric lights were a trick of the eye. I took the binoculars to several windows and discovered that the window upstairs has a metal screen that separates large points of light into segments. And that explains why my father-in-law didn't see the separate lights like I did (my husband couldn't see separate lights because he can't see crap).
that explains the fancy clothes, but not the rest of it...all the stuff I saw from the basement window with my naked eye--the abnormal sparks, the wavering hover, the bright light that has never been there any other morning...and then, upstairs, the reddish blinking light that traveled upward in a diagonal direction at an exponential speed...
I hope tomorrow's doggie duties yield nothing more exciting than full water and food bowls.
And, I hope I find some way I can explain the other 85 percent. But, I doubt it.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Today is the one-year anniversary of Sadie’s death. I can’t believe it has been a year. She was a real rascal and an expert at disobedience. She rarely sat still and she frequently lost her temper with our other dog. There were at least three times that we rushed off to the vet to get stitches. We went to a veterinary behaviorist (which is the same rate as a shrink, except without the insurance assistance). I read books. I fretted. I chased her all over the house. She chased me all over the house. We played hide-and-go-seek. She had to be at least one body length ahead of Pickles when we walked. She would distract Pickles by barking at a fake intruder and then steal her treat as soon as Pickles came to see what was going on. She wanted soft toys just to un-stuff them. She wanted hard toys just to bury them (she took great care in burying items). She ran from my big white deaf cat. She hated the garbage men. She hated sirens. She hated thunderstorms. She loved people and kids. She hated dogs. She constantly pestered us when she was inside. She constantly pestered us to come inside when she was outside. She loved to chase birds. She hated to get up in the morning. She hated to go to bed. She’d run upstairs when you told her to go downstairs. She loved to eat more than anything else. She learned that she could only eat the pieces of cat food that had fallen out of the bowl and on the kitchen floor. She cleaned the kitchen floor of all crumbs. She wouldn’t stay out of the garbage. She loved to hear herself bark. The neighbors hated to hear her bark. She loved getting her Christmas toys. Her Christmas toys only lasted 30 minutes. She was a handful. She was always mischievous. Her eyes were always sparkling. She was always smiling like sunshine.
I miss my gal.