I mentioned the other day how Shiva the Cow Cat dropped the ball while we were praying up Old Sol. I’m not going to say with certainty Shiva’s responsible for this, but if she is, I’m going to give her a special scratch behind the ears as a reward.
“CORONAL HOLE: NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory is monitoring a dark gash in the sun’s atmosphere–a coronal hole. It’s the dark vertical feature in this extreme UV image taken on Jan. 13th:
“Coronal holes are places where the sun’s magnetic field opens up and allows the solar wind to escape. This yawning hole is about 120,000 km wide and more than a million km long. Solar wind flowing from its UV-dark abyss will reach Earth on Jan. 16th or 17th, possibly sparking auroras for high-latitude sky watchers.”
Mayan calendar enthusiasts, on the other hand, choose to ignore the coincidence of Shiva’s lapse and attribute the hole to the obvious sinister consequences of the rock calendar having runned spang out of numbers.
Meanwhile, astrophysicists, unaware of Shiva’s blink, speculate it’s the work of Proxima Centauri, a hot tempered red dwarf cholla who hangs out in the same honkytonks as Old Sol, and who has a long history with a switch-blade.
I’m leaning to Shiva doing it, but what the hell do I know?
Good morning readers. I’m obliged you came by this morning.
I’m having to re-boot my brain, trying to get a fix on this reality I live in this morning. Spent the night busybusybusy in a sequencial dream I used to have, one of two, the first forty years of my life. The guy I was in the dream had gotten a lot older these three decades I hadn’t been him, and so had the two others who showed up whom I’ve never known outside the dream. But one of them turned over a D9 bulldozer, which slid down a slope about 30 feet and fell off a cliff. I tried to warn him, but he ran down the slope, couldn’t stop, and went off the cliff too.
The guy I am in the dream spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to get down that slope for a look, just to satisfy himself whether the obvious was true without going over himself.
Busybusybusy. It wasn’t exactly old home week, but it never was. From childhood until the age of 40 I knew those people in that dream but I never cared for them. I thought they’d passed out of my life.
I’ve been three weeks without seeing another human being, now I count it up. Good things usually begin to happen in the mind after three days without seeing anyone, but a few spinoffs do eventually begin to happen triggering the awareness it’s time to have a few hours of human company.
Had an exciting day yesterday, for those of you interested, running some of the tests I mentioned a while back. Most of the day spent running calculations for the barycentric centers of the solar system and earth at particular moments over the past 15-20 years, comparing it to concurrent events of a particular description. It’s going to take a lot more work, but it’s looking fairly promising.
Maybe it was all that excitement caused the dream to start up again. But at least one of those folks probably won’t be coming back into the dream. I never cared much for him anyway.
74 years old, a resident of Leavenworth, KS, in an apartment located on the VA campus. Partnered with a black shorthaired cat named Mister Midnight. (1943-2020)
Since April, 2020, this blog is maintained by Jeanne Kasten (See "About" page for further information).
I’m sharing it with you because there’s almost no likelihood you’ll believe it. This lunatic asylum I call my life has so many unexpected twists and turns I won’t even try to guess where it’s going. I’d suggest you try to find some laughs here. You won’t find wisdom. Good luck.