Today is the second day in a row I’ve seen the sun come up. That is actually the best part of insomnia. I love the quality of light and how the birds start chirping right about the same time as the sky changes color. If I could get to sleep early enough, I’d like to get up that early every day, but of course, not being able to sleep is the issue. Note that I didn’t say “problem.” I’m tired of problems. This is just another funny thing.
Here is another funny thing: thinking the word “insomnia” always reminds me of that scene in The Life of Brian when Pilate was mentioning Roman names and comes up with “Incontinentia” and the soldier’s face almost explodes from trying to muffle his laughter.
Here is another funny thing: although I don’t have an amusing movie scene to reference, I was diagnosed with my old friend bronchitis at the urgent care room last night. This doesn’t even faze me anymore.
Not funny ha ha.
A woman’s beloved dog died, and it somehow occurred to her to do the following:
The image I’m submitting is of my dearly departed Sasha, a golden retriever I lost in July of 2006. Filled with grief, I decided to start researching ways to contact her in spirit and what I achieved was beyond my imagination. The image was captured doing an experiment where I took 30 second video clips while stirring a pot of water on the stove. The hood light was on and I used a stainless steel pot. I then took the video to work where I could go through it frame by frame. Sasha came in at an angle, so I turned the picture and put pictures of her in life on either side to compare. The image was so clear that AAEVP featured it in their newsletter! This was the greatest gift I ever could have received. I hope it can bring peace to others as well to know that even our pets live on…
Although she gets an A for Effort, I don’t believe that’s really her dog. There is a school of thought that spirits try to contact the living through things we would normally consider background static, like odd reflections; it’s more likely that the human mind has an enormous capacity for trying to make sense out of the senseless. In this case, it’s visual but also mental: “Where did my poor dog go? How can I go on without her?”
Of course, I say this now, but if anything happens to Goblin I will have every burner in the house going, put cauldrons in the fireplaces, and line the walls with camp stoves.
Anyway, it’s a beautiful Memorial Day. The sun is bright and the birds are still chirping, a remnant of its rising. If Rob is lucky, one of those birds will be a teratorn. Thanks to a couple of those funny things above, I probably won’t go to work today, but my parents are having a cookout later and I might drag myself to that. Or Rob might drag me. Or the teratorn. I mean, the teratorn might drag me, but it would on many levels be more serendipitous if Rob dragged the teratorn.
Update: Speaking of senseless, isn’t it as likely that, in the unrotated photo, the reflection above the dog looks like a human skull with handlebar mustaches? Or is that just the Indiana Jones talking?