Photo taken and provided by Joshua Thomas. Taken in Red River, NM the morning of January 9, 2015.
Parhelion Plus
bobshannon.org
SpaceX has released dramatic footage of its booster rocket trying to
land on a floating ocean barge after a launch - an unprecedented attempt
that ended in a fiery explosion.
The video released Friday shows the 14-story rocket
hitting the football field-sized barge at an angle, lighting up the
night sky off the Florida coast.
Saturday's landing attempt came minutes after the
Falcon 9 rocket launched a load of supplies to the International Space
Station. The first stage peeled away and flew to the barge.
bobshannon.org
5 free things to do in Spokane, Washington
The Centennial Trail is a 60-mile paved biking and hiking trail that connects Spokane, Wash., with Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, and Lake Coeur d'Alene.
The Centennial Trail is a 60-mile paved biking and hiking trail that connects Spokane, Wash., with Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, and Lake Coeur d'Alene.
bobshannon.org
A man suspected of fatally shooting three people - including his
mother - before leading authorities on a high-speed chase is fighting
extradition back to Idaho.
John Lee's decision Friday to not waive the formal
extradition process means Idaho Gov. C.L. "Butch" Otter will have to
request extradition from Washington Gov. Jay Inslee. Lee faces three
counts of first-degree murder and one count of first-degree attempted
murder in Idaho.
Lee, 29, carried out the shootings on Jan. 10, authorities say.
"He's not going to waive extradition at this time," defense attorney Steve Martonick said Friday.
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention announced Thursday
that this season's flu shot is only 23 percent effective. Despite the
low percentage, doctors still urge you to get vaccinated.
Kelly Dvorak and her daughter Piper didn't get a flu shot this year and so far, so good.
"Not the flu, thank goodness,? Dvorak said. ?Not in our house, yet."
Others haven't been so lucky.
"Couple of kids in her class have had the flu," she said.
The latest update from the Washington State Department of Health
shows there's been 22 laboratory-confirmed deaths in the state from the
flu. This year is shaping up to a better year than the 2014-2015 flu
season, which saw a whopping 79 deaths due to the virus. However, just
like last year, this year is hitting the elderly particularly hard.
"This is a bad strain of flu this year,? Dr. Richard Besser, ABC's
Chief Medical Editor said. ?It's infecting the elderly very, very much,
but today we have learned that vaccine is not very effective."
Part of the Olson Heritage- St Peters Creek
bobshannon.org
Urgent Action: Stop evictions from tiger reserves
“We were forced to leave. They made us leave our village. Before the evictions there was a lot of trouble, the forest department harrassed us a lot.”
Baiga man evicted from Kanha Tiger Reserve
Across India thousands of people are being illegally evicted from their ancestral homelands inside tiger reserves in the name of conservation.
Last year, Baiga and Gond families were evicted from Kanha Tiger Reserve, home of Kipling's The Jungle Book. In 2013, Khadia hunter-gatherers were evicted from Similipal Tiger Reserve. They ended up living in dire conditions under plastic sheets.
These evictions are illegal under Indian and international law.
“We were forced to leave. They made us leave our village. Before the evictions there was a lot of trouble, the forest department harrassed us a lot.”
Baiga man evicted from Kanha Tiger Reserve
Across India thousands of people are being illegally evicted from their ancestral homelands inside tiger reserves in the name of conservation.
Last year, Baiga and Gond families were evicted from Kanha Tiger Reserve, home of Kipling's The Jungle Book. In 2013, Khadia hunter-gatherers were evicted from Similipal Tiger Reserve. They ended up living in dire conditions under plastic sheets.
These evictions are illegal under Indian and international law.
bobshannon.org
I’ve
ridden public transport all my life. 23 years. Some of the STA bus
drivers knew me when I was just a wee little tot. While they watched me
grow, I’ve watched STA grow, then shrink, then grow again.
I’ve seen my share of amazing things.
Over all the potholes and through all the puddles, there are a few stories that I’ll never forget.
On a rather normal ride up to Northtown Mall, we sat
quietly just staring at the buildings whiz by. “The body is at Mike’s,
right,” questioned a man talking on his cellphone.
At that very instant, I looked at my friend who looked at me and then a stranger looked over her shoulder back at us:
“Did he just say what I thought he said?”
My friend pulled out his phone and searched the local
news sites to see if there were any unsolved cases that day. Just so
happened there was one, and we spent a few hours swearing up a storm
until they caught the killer.
It’s not only what people say, it’s what they do.
One bad winter in 2003 meant one other passenger and I
were trapped on a snowy and icy road for two hours. Our bus driver
couldn’t do much. “Either get off and walk or stay with me.”
I would have gotten off, but the other passenger, a
middle-schooler (as was I), started playing their music loudly. I liked
the song, so we danced to the music and we sang the lyrics. We had a
party bus, in the snow. And at the end of it all, our bus driver gave us
both notes so we had excused absences from the classes we missed. I
made a friend that day, and I was so grateful for my driver.
Of course, there’s plenty of generosity on the busses in Spokane.
There was a woman who was incredibly flustered. Her hair
was frazzled, even her wool sweater looked as stressed as she was. She
pulled her children on to the bus only to find she didn’t have her bus
pass or any spendable money.
Unfortunately, the bus driver was unsympathetic (Yes,
they do exist). So five people scrambled up all the change they had and
paid her way. The delightment, the fact that her cheeks immediately lit
up with life, was beautiful to see.
But with beauty comes tragedy.
My main bus route is the medical shuttle. Right there is
a precursor to some uncomfortable things that happen. People are on
their way to the emergency room all the time on that bus, all while I’m
just trying to go home and eat dinner.
One time, around Christmas, I got on the bus and happily
watched the snow fall. It was dusk, and all the lights were starting to
come on. I was the only passenger, and when another person got on, it
sparked my attention.
“No sweetie. I’m sorry. I can’t hold you.” His voice was
shaky. He seemed weak. His daughter was at his feet in her stroller
tightly buckled in for safety, but she struggled to get into his lap.
What kind of nonsense was I going to be in for tonight, I thought. I mean, I truly hated children. The sight of them anger me.
He made a phone call. “Hey. I’m on the way to the emergency room. I keep having seizures and I don’t know what’s wrong.”
That’s why he couldn’t hold his daughter. If he started
seizing, he could hurt her. Even while he was suffering, she was his
first priority.
It shook me up. It still shakes me up. While I was
crying at this story unfolding behind me, while the bus driver drove as
fast as he legally could, the man kept telling his struggling daughter
that he loved her. He was going to be able to hold her real soon.
I hope they’re doing well.
I originally set out to write a column about the crazy
things people do. But when I started writing, I couldn’t help but think
about people’s stories I’ve seen. Just by riding the bus, I see glimpses
of other people’s lives and their morals and values.
I’ve lived my entire life on this bus system, and I just
now realized that here is a city contained within itself. Each person
brings their baggage onto 35-foot-long metal carriages, and we’re all
affected by it. Take it in. Enjoy the ride.
I’ve ridden public transport all my life. 23 years. Some of the STA bus drivers knew me when I was just a wee little tot. While they watched me grow, I’ve watched STA grow, then shrink, then grow again.
I’ve seen my share of amazing things.
Over all the potholes and through all the puddles, there are a few stories that I’ll never forget.
On a rather normal ride up to Northtown Mall, we sat quietly just staring at the buildings whiz by. “The body is at Mike’s, right,” questioned a man talking on his cellphone.
At that very instant, I looked at my friend who looked at me and then a stranger looked over her shoulder back at us:
“Did he just say what I thought he said?”
My friend pulled out his phone and searched the local news sites to see if there were any unsolved cases that day. Just so happened there was one, and we spent a few hours swearing up a storm until they caught the killer.
It’s not only what people say, it’s what they do.
One bad winter in 2003 meant one other passenger and I were trapped on a snowy and icy road for two hours. Our bus driver couldn’t do much. “Either get off and walk or stay with me.”
I would have gotten off, but the other passenger, a middle-schooler (as was I), started playing their music loudly. I liked the song, so we danced to the music and we sang the lyrics. We had a party bus, in the snow. And at the end of it all, our bus driver gave us both notes so we had excused absences from the classes we missed. I made a friend that day, and I was so grateful for my driver.
Of course, there’s plenty of generosity on the busses in Spokane.
There was a woman who was incredibly flustered. Her hair was frazzled, even her wool sweater looked as stressed as she was. She pulled her children on to the bus only to find she didn’t have her bus pass or any spendable money.
Unfortunately, the bus driver was unsympathetic (Yes, they do exist). So five people scrambled up all the change they had and paid her way. The delightment, the fact that her cheeks immediately lit up with life, was beautiful to see.
But with beauty comes tragedy.
My main bus route is the medical shuttle. Right there is a precursor to some uncomfortable things that happen. People are on their way to the emergency room all the time on that bus, all while I’m just trying to go home and eat dinner.
One time, around Christmas, I got on the bus and happily watched the snow fall. It was dusk, and all the lights were starting to come on. I was the only passenger, and when another person got on, it sparked my attention.
“No sweetie. I’m sorry. I can’t hold you.” His voice was shaky. He seemed weak. His daughter was at his feet in her stroller tightly buckled in for safety, but she struggled to get into his lap.
What kind of nonsense was I going to be in for tonight, I thought. I mean, I truly hated children. The sight of them anger me.
He made a phone call. “Hey. I’m on the way to the emergency room. I keep having seizures and I don’t know what’s wrong.”
That’s why he couldn’t hold his daughter. If he started seizing, he could hurt her. Even while he was suffering, she was his first priority.
It shook me up. It still shakes me up. While I was crying at this story unfolding behind me, while the bus driver drove as fast as he legally could, the man kept telling his struggling daughter that he loved her. He was going to be able to hold her real soon.
I hope they’re doing well.
I originally set out to write a column about the crazy things people do. But when I started writing, I couldn’t help but think about people’s stories I’ve seen. Just by riding the bus, I see glimpses of other people’s lives and their morals and values.
I’ve lived my entire life on this bus system, and I just now realized that here is a city contained within itself. Each person brings their baggage onto 35-foot-long metal carriages, and we’re all affected by it. Take it in. Enjoy the ride.
I’ve seen my share of amazing things.
Over all the potholes and through all the puddles, there are a few stories that I’ll never forget.
On a rather normal ride up to Northtown Mall, we sat quietly just staring at the buildings whiz by. “The body is at Mike’s, right,” questioned a man talking on his cellphone.
At that very instant, I looked at my friend who looked at me and then a stranger looked over her shoulder back at us:
“Did he just say what I thought he said?”
My friend pulled out his phone and searched the local news sites to see if there were any unsolved cases that day. Just so happened there was one, and we spent a few hours swearing up a storm until they caught the killer.
It’s not only what people say, it’s what they do.
One bad winter in 2003 meant one other passenger and I were trapped on a snowy and icy road for two hours. Our bus driver couldn’t do much. “Either get off and walk or stay with me.”
I would have gotten off, but the other passenger, a middle-schooler (as was I), started playing their music loudly. I liked the song, so we danced to the music and we sang the lyrics. We had a party bus, in the snow. And at the end of it all, our bus driver gave us both notes so we had excused absences from the classes we missed. I made a friend that day, and I was so grateful for my driver.
Of course, there’s plenty of generosity on the busses in Spokane.
There was a woman who was incredibly flustered. Her hair was frazzled, even her wool sweater looked as stressed as she was. She pulled her children on to the bus only to find she didn’t have her bus pass or any spendable money.
Unfortunately, the bus driver was unsympathetic (Yes, they do exist). So five people scrambled up all the change they had and paid her way. The delightment, the fact that her cheeks immediately lit up with life, was beautiful to see.
But with beauty comes tragedy.
My main bus route is the medical shuttle. Right there is a precursor to some uncomfortable things that happen. People are on their way to the emergency room all the time on that bus, all while I’m just trying to go home and eat dinner.
One time, around Christmas, I got on the bus and happily watched the snow fall. It was dusk, and all the lights were starting to come on. I was the only passenger, and when another person got on, it sparked my attention.
“No sweetie. I’m sorry. I can’t hold you.” His voice was shaky. He seemed weak. His daughter was at his feet in her stroller tightly buckled in for safety, but she struggled to get into his lap.
What kind of nonsense was I going to be in for tonight, I thought. I mean, I truly hated children. The sight of them anger me.
He made a phone call. “Hey. I’m on the way to the emergency room. I keep having seizures and I don’t know what’s wrong.”
That’s why he couldn’t hold his daughter. If he started seizing, he could hurt her. Even while he was suffering, she was his first priority.
It shook me up. It still shakes me up. While I was crying at this story unfolding behind me, while the bus driver drove as fast as he legally could, the man kept telling his struggling daughter that he loved her. He was going to be able to hold her real soon.
I hope they’re doing well.
I originally set out to write a column about the crazy things people do. But when I started writing, I couldn’t help but think about people’s stories I’ve seen. Just by riding the bus, I see glimpses of other people’s lives and their morals and values.
I’ve lived my entire life on this bus system, and I just now realized that here is a city contained within itself. Each person brings their baggage onto 35-foot-long metal carriages, and we’re all affected by it. Take it in. Enjoy the ride.
I’ve
ridden public transport all my life. 23 years. Some of the STA bus
drivers knew me when I was just a wee little tot. While they watched me
grow, I’ve watched STA grow, then shrink, then grow again.
I’ve seen my share of amazing things.
Over all the potholes and through all the puddles, there are a few stories that I’ll never forget.
On a rather normal ride up to Northtown Mall, we sat
quietly just staring at the buildings whiz by. “The body is at Mike’s,
right,” questioned a man talking on his cellphone.
At that very instant, I looked at my friend who looked at me and then a stranger looked over her shoulder back at us:
“Did he just say what I thought he said?”
My friend pulled out his phone and searched the local
news sites to see if there were any unsolved cases that day. Just so
happened there was one, and we spent a few hours swearing up a storm
until they caught the killer.
It’s not only what people say, it’s what they do.
One bad winter in 2003 meant one other passenger and I
were trapped on a snowy and icy road for two hours. Our bus driver
couldn’t do much. “Either get off and walk or stay with me.”
I would have gotten off, but the other passenger, a
middle-schooler (as was I), started playing their music loudly. I liked
the song, so we danced to the music and we sang the lyrics. We had a
party bus, in the snow. And at the end of it all, our bus driver gave us
both notes so we had excused absences from the classes we missed. I
made a friend that day, and I was so grateful for my driver.
Of course, there’s plenty of generosity on the busses in Spokane.
There was a woman who was incredibly flustered. Her hair
was frazzled, even her wool sweater looked as stressed as she was. She
pulled her children on to the bus only to find she didn’t have her bus
pass or any spendable money.
Unfortunately, the bus driver was unsympathetic (Yes,
they do exist). So five people scrambled up all the change they had and
paid her way. The delightment, the fact that her cheeks immediately lit
up with life, was beautiful to see.
But with beauty comes tragedy.
My main bus route is the medical shuttle. Right there is
a precursor to some uncomfortable things that happen. People are on
their way to the emergency room all the time on that bus, all while I’m
just trying to go home and eat dinner.
One time, around Christmas, I got on the bus and happily
watched the snow fall. It was dusk, and all the lights were starting to
come on. I was the only passenger, and when another person got on, it
sparked my attention.
“No sweetie. I’m sorry. I can’t hold you.” His voice was
shaky. He seemed weak. His daughter was at his feet in her stroller
tightly buckled in for safety, but she struggled to get into his lap.
What kind of nonsense was I going to be in for tonight, I thought. I mean, I truly hated children. The sight of them anger me.
He made a phone call. “Hey. I’m on the way to the emergency room. I keep having seizures and I don’t know what’s wrong.”
That’s why he couldn’t hold his daughter. If he started
seizing, he could hurt her. Even while he was suffering, she was his
first priority.
It shook me up. It still shakes me up. While I was
crying at this story unfolding behind me, while the bus driver drove as
fast as he legally could, the man kept telling his struggling daughter
that he loved her. He was going to be able to hold her real soon.
I hope they’re doing well.
I originally set out to write a column about the crazy
things people do. But when I started writing, I couldn’t help but think
about people’s stories I’ve seen. Just by riding the bus, I see glimpses
of other people’s lives and their morals and values.
I’ve lived my entire life on this bus system, and I just
now realized that here is a city contained within itself. Each person
brings their baggage onto 35-foot-long metal carriages, and we’re all
affected by it. Take it in. Enjoy the ride.
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