The new dish went up while I was at work. The installer didn't use the post on the side of the house that worked fine for the previous several years. He said that the dish had to be on a new mount, more 'out of the elements' and then proceeded to put the new one higher up on the roof where it's more exposed.
She called me to say he was gone and that the dogs were calm again. I asked how it looked, afraid that our house now looked like an NBC affiliate. "I can't find it," she said.
"Whadaya mean; the dish?"
"Yea. I don't know where he put it."
"Can you walk around the house and look?"
"I can't find it."
I didn't find it myself until after dark. The installer may not have been learned about atmospheric science but he managed by pure luck to place the new dish in such a place, at such a declination, that it's top edge gets illuminated by a street light down the alley. When I come in the back yard, I think for a second an orange moon is breaking over the roof.
Not so, just a happy accident of the complicated webs we weave.