The good news, such as it is on a Monday, is that the WoWW (World of Woo-Woo) is back. This morning we not only have some fine reports, but in addition we’ve got a new theory to put forth to explain the phenomena…
First the reports: We’ll start with this one from Canada:
A few days ago, we bought a small wine rack. It was a DIY kit. We laid all the parts out on the table and made sure the kit was complete. It was, and assembly began. When we got to the end and were adding cross base support we discovered one of the pieces was missing. We spent some time looking everywhere for it, even checking under couch cushions and in the linings of pieces in the area. Nothing turned up. Both cross braces were in the kit as I had held both of them and test fit them in dry run. I am expected the part to re-appear sometime soon. I’ll let you know.
Then from reader Andrew:
My beautiful mom (83) passed back on 2/5. While in the hospital for other matters she had a massive hematoma…and within minutes was on life support (breathing apparatus) and unconscious. Us kids assembled over the next few days to say goodbye: my sis and I sleeping over in her ICU room and giving her constant love and appreciation. During that time I was fortunate to share with her what I know of the “Natural Liberation” as understood by the Tibetans…the journey of the soul upon death and the various paths it must negotiate.
Upon returning home from the mid-west after her memorial, I unwound for 24 hours. The following day I unpacked, taking out a small wedgewood urn with some of her ashes from my suitcase, and put it upon a maple altar near the phone. I then went about my other re-settling business (mind I haven’t been home in some 12 days) which included resuming review of my recently mastered piano recordings, having just weeded out the final cd to a total of 11 songs.
An hour later, the phone rings. Having no caller ID, we screen all our calls. My spouse’s recorded greeting comes on…then the beep…then a pregnant pause and I hear a female, computerized voice simply say…”…goodbye…” …click.
It’s my beautiful mother who somehow managed a “digital goodbye” of her own in response to our loving goodbyes at the hospital some 12 days ago.
Another hour passes. I hear a loud “thunk” on the roof. Walking outside to investigate, I can’t find anything laying around the outside of the house, and return inside. 15 minutes later, the same “thunk” but this time it’s multiple “thunks”, coming from our sliding glass door.I walk over and pull the curtains aside. Pressed up against the glass on the porch and looking up at me as tho’ it wants to get inside is a beautiful, young red-tailed hawk. I slowly slide the door open, and it flies over to our porch rail and perches on it, next to my outside piano. I sit down in a chair beside the open sliding door, and we enjoy looking at each other for about 10 seconds. Before I continue, simply know that birds-particularly red-tailed hawks-have always been significant messengers throughout my life.
Soon it alights from the rail and tries to get into the house via the large bathroom window. Fluttering it’s big wings outside the window and then ascending to our second story porch, it hovers around our bedroom and then disappears from view around the bedroom corner.I remain seated for 5 minutes and then step outside to investigate, going up the outside stairs to the second story bedroom porch. It is gone, but as I reach the upstairs, I catch my outside cat’s gaze around the corner, a wild look in her eyes like “…wow…did you see that…!?”
And then there was this one from reader Wayne:
OK, I procrastinate–a lot—
Two months ago, I experienced an ‘appearance’ while driving to town.
I came to a (marked) stop from our gravel side road onto a 2-lane blacktop county road. Looked left, clear; looked right, also clear. Straight ahead, clear. Left AGAIN and right AGAIN ( to stop/push-away any surprise car arrivals from behind the window pillar–it works–same as look through the windscreen again for traffic before imitating a change in direction or altitude). I made a normal left turn, and as I started straightening the wheel, a vehicle appeared about 75 yards in front of me, my lane, going my way.
The appearance took about 3/10th’s sec (300 msec) best guess. First appeared as a hazy gray disk about 1/2 car diameter, expanded to the size of a car, still gray but less transparent, then a dark maroon SUV. No license ID, dang! S/he/it was going quickly, pulled away and was gone in a minute or so.
It also seems there’s a lot more serendipity going on these days-things appearing/disappearing/changing. And, my wife and I are also trying to occupy the same space more frequently, especially the kitchen (sacred marriage). The region we live in feels less clear recently than this pristine mountain territory usually does. Our friends who are aware of ‘stuff’ also notice this. Anyone else feeling a bit edgy recently?
…and I’m stickin’ to it.
That’s a good sampling of the Woo-Woo:” We’ve got disappearing (and reappearing) objects, communications via unexpected channels, and materializing “stuff” including cars. (David Copperfield would be impressed, I figure.)
And then, as often happens, the I-Ching Inbox (my inbox that seems to have a sense of it’s own, a kind of Yoda-like personality – pops up with this email from an unnamed reader offering a theory:
Hello George:
I have a theory:
During times of global unrest, there is a parabolic / exponential rise in paranormal activity.
Therefore, there could be much more poltergeist, or paranormal activity than normal now than one would normally experience.
Have your readers experienced such an increase in such activity within the last week(s)?
This also might help pin point if something bad (even worse?) may be on the horizon.
Might be something to ponder for your Woo/Woo section.
Thank you for your consideration
THAT is a fine question. Please keep a note on your personal encounters with the WoWW because they may be stress related. And, if they area, is there perhaps some hint that wandering around in the desert for 40-days, or other high stress events, might trigger superhuman experience?
And then if that works….is it the release of DMT (the spirit molecule) or something more objectively real? Profound either way, but which curtain is it all behind?
Why Mondays Are What They Are
I happened to be re-reading a book I’d read a number of years ago (The 500 Year Delta: What Happens After What Comes Next) and there was a pretty good observation in it that I found really useful, what this being Monday and all.
It went to the idea that there used to be a time when humans got up out of bed, went to work, and it was there that we spent time considering the past, looking at the tools available in the present and then had the luxury of making solid (reasoned) judgments as to how it should all work in the future.
Not any more.
“There is only the present,” observed the book “And the present is real-time and today, real-time is the only time.”
Us Luddite-types remember when there were three kinds of time…
Around the Ranch: High Productivity Weekend
Besides nursing two sick cats, Zeus with a kidney problem (which thankfully has passed) and Puscilla with a respiratory infection which involves gently putting 1 ml of antibiotics in the mouth of a blur of slashing razor-like paws, I somehow managed to get my IRS tax filing done.
Then Sunday it was round 1 of spring tractoring. Over the course of the winter we lost about eight trees around the property. None of them are small – most are about 2 1/2 foot in diameter (feet if you’re a nauthunah). So it was tons of fun to get out trail clearing and log moving. Getting things pushed up into brush piles for burning.
There was about two acres that had Chinaberry trees sprouting upthat had Chinaberry trees sprouting up. Also known as the Melia azedarach, they are all smaller than your little finger, but it they’re not taken care of, they can quickly sprout up to 10-feet high and as big around as your wrist – and then you have an issue. So that chore got handled. Debating the herbicides that are offishully (sic) recommended to deal with them.
All that remains is more clearing and then lighting off the burn piles.
That might happen this week, or next, depending on when the rains come. I like to set off piles about an hour before the rain hits, so there is absolutely no chance of the fires spreading. Most of the brush piles are 10-12 feet high and with a tree or two on them.
Of course, it’s also the time of year that’s ideal for “limbing-up” the property.
Limbing-up is what people who take care of their land do, here abouts, to keep controlled burns where they belong – down on the ground, to provide for a nice cool breeze through a stand of trees in the summertime. It’s not uncommon, with limbed-up land for there to be a brush fire in summertime, but as long as it’s kept on the ground (and doesn’t go “crowning” it’s pretty easy to contain a wildfire. All you need is a couple of dozers, diesel, and manpower.
This limbing-up isn’t a terribly complicated job. You just get a machete and a pair of lopping shears and head out.
Basically, you strip a tree of all limbs up to about 10-feet off the ground. By the time they load up with leaves, they will be down to 8-feet, or so, which is just about perfect. Most of it can be done from the controls of the tractor. If you can reach it standing up, it comes down.
We still have some chain saw work to do. One of the trails is still blocked by a big tree that fell (a 3+-footer) and cutting that and moving the big pieces down to the burn pile will be a bit of work. But it’s the fun stuff…even on the north side of 65 there’s a certain joy that comes from looking over a freshly cleared up piece of land and admiring your handiwork. It’s almost as satisfying as framing up a house or hooking into a 25-pound king salmon but not quite up there with having a computer you’ve built come to life. There’s a little Frankenstein in our family, lol.
OK, onto the desk full of items accumulated from the weekend. More tomorrow and in the meantime, write when you break-even or if some of that “high tension woo-woo” slaps you…
George george@ure.net