Maybe they're looking for me!

In the last week or so, there's been a flurry of UFO sightings in our little section of Kentucky, with folks weighing in pro and con. The local newspaper has fueled the fuss with a couple of stories and a photo from an iPad taken of a supposed UFO through a car window.
I'm one of those people who spent the appropriate period of mourning the demise of "The X-Files," and still long for another, perfect show like that to come along. (Yes, please feel free to comment with your personal favorite X-Files episode. I'd love to know!)
A few weeks ago, I sat down with a 16-year-old to watch the 25th-anniversary edition of one of my favorite films of all time, "Close Encounters of the Third Kind." Much to my relief, she liked it so well she told people what a great film it was.
I was raised by parents who had copies of Fate magazine on their bedside table, and I still remember the summer night at the drive-in theater (yes, I'm that old) when my sister and I were certain we saw a UFO hovering over our small town.
So it was that I was called to make a pilgrimage to Roswell, New Mexico, a few years ago while visiting a friend. And, of course, I came back with the usual tourist photos. Here's one:

And then here's my photographic proof that despite what the government tell us, Area 51 does exist. (Please keep in mind that this was the period in which the alien sensors in my head thought I'd look better as a blond. That device has now gone dormant and I'm back to my familiar long, dark hair.)

So you tell me. Do UFOs exist, or are we all being fooled by the government's weather balloons and secret experimental aircraft?


Cammie

P.S. I understand that the aliens grabbed up some Kindles while they were visiting here. Like them, you can also read my Shadow Ancient series from Resplendence Publishing on your e-reader. They especially enjoyed "Hell's Belle," available from Amazon, Fictionwise and other e-book retailers.
 

Oh, come on, Mama Nature!

Although I write about vampires and others things that roam the dark hours, I am definitely NOT a child of the night. I adore sunlight and heat; my idea of a perfect summer day is basking in the sun on some white-sand beach with a sexy cabana boy bringing me drinks.

So I assume that Mother Nature hates me. Otherwise, why in the world would she continue to submit me to gray day after gray day?

I can handle the rain. I can handle the snow. I can even handle those days when rain turns into ice which then becomes fat flakes of snow. What I can't handle is week after week of that with nothing brightening the world but street lights.

Our local weather man explained that it's not really a bad winter, it's because we so many warm and sunny days late into the fall. Well, that's nice, but it doesn't make me feel any better. What would make me feel better is our local weather man announcing that tomorrow's temperature will be 70 degrees and we better put on some sunscreen.

A few weeks ago, I seriously considered escaping to the south, to visit my niece in Louisana. I haven't seen her for a couple of years, and not seen her new baby at all. She says her door is open and I'm sure I could find a motel somewhere close, since she lives in a city.

I'm glad I didn't jump in the car and start down the Interstate, because about the time I decided to leave all this behind, the south was slammed with a winter freeze and snow. In fact, one day it was warmer in Alaska than Florida said, yes, my local weather man.

I know I could find comfort on the warm beaches of Hawaii, which would be perfect since I don't have to have a passport to go there. But with all the vivid description of the new airport screenings, I'm a little hesitant to fly right now. Not that I mind a good pat down now and again, but I prefer from someone I love and not a stranger with latex gloves.

So I guess that leaves me with two choices: endure or bribe Mother Nature.

Do you think she'd take Old Man Winter for a little fling if I got them a classy suite in Vegas?