Want a real misery? Word autocorrect. No, Word, you do NOT know better than me. Honest. Stop changing CNA to CAN and all the rest of the stuff you know nothing at all about. No, no, no.
More and more I’m finding MS Word thinks it knows best, when it does not. And turning it off doesn’t seem to make it stop!!!!! Grrrr.
I believe I’m done with site revisions, now. The new music, art, author, and videography pages are up, things linked in and not breaking. Now to finish up work on zentao.com and zentao7.com. (I’m working on it.)
Meanwhile, in other news, we’ve been without water here for over 24 hours for a second time since last Friday because Avista keeps breaking the water main as they try (and repeatedly fail) to get their new, improved, giant metal poles put up. They’ve destroyed my fences, they’ve destroyed the front of the property (it’s caving into their trench), and we’re suffering having to haul water, something I haven’t had to do in years and am ill-prepared for. There’s my pond, of course, and so at least toilets can be flushed…manually. Such joy to endure in the name of somebody else’s idea of progress.
The Internet went down. Soggy cables of a crumbling infrastructure will do that when a melt happens. Of course, it happens other times, too, but that’s usually either rodents chewing through the lines…or somebody’s highway construction project severing the main trunk. Gleefully, I took advantage of the hiatus granted me from the Net–from having to deal with servers, email, and everything cyber. It let me concentrate…or should have, on working on my projects.
First day down and, yes, me without any withdrawal symptoms (I never suffer withdrawal from losing connection. The opposite, in fact.), I worked on my audio project…until the cyberzombies who were suffering withdrawal descended, wondering if I had Internet access some way. (They know me too well, I think…and, uh-huh, I did have a way to connect, but I didn’t tell them that, because, for me, it’s only for emergencies. Using it is hyper-expensive.) Second day down, and it’s Mom’s birthday, which means everybody and their puppy either calls or shows up–no appreciable work done.
And, then, the DSL came back up…earlier than predicted. (Grumble.) There is something to be said for having no connection to the world at large, except for what’s outside your door. Life is cleaner, less cluttered, less stressful, less concerned. I prefer it that way, but the reality is that, without connectivity, I become insulated from the reality in which most people live, experiencing only the reality of localized here and now. I would have no idea if nuclear war broke out…until I became a shadow burned into the ground–no terror possible.
I remember when I lived as a recluse for long years, only coming out maybe once a month if I needed some fencing material or food staples. And to get the mail. Back then, I had an early form of Internet, too–all black screen or telnet white screen, delivered via braided copper cable that I paid a substantial amount to have run to the property from miles away. Communication was limited to text, used by few, and completely devoid of trolls, advertising, and, mostly, malevolence from black box intruders. It also was devoid of inanity, breakfast bagels, and surf-by spammers. I was reminded of that time today when, coming back online, Nathan Lowell poked his head out long enough to type of few conversant lines with Anita Lewis and me. It was refreshing to commune with people you know are intelligent and of sound character.
The point? I don’t know if there is one. Yet, I know that the Net as it stands today is completely unfulfilling as a communication and connection medium. At least, for me.
It’s Monday. Mondays mean bookkeeping. Mondays mean sorting through all the junk mail they send to my and Mom’s addresses.
I check mail once a week. On Fridays, usually. It isn’t sorted and worked through till Monday, so Mondays mean filling up a 13 gallon garbage can stashed outside my office, lined with a heavy-duty, extra-hefty garbage bag in which to toss all the wasted dead tree paper that charities, political groups, and businesses begging for attention mail to everybody who has the fortune to own a mailing address. And, of course, that means that every two weeks when I go to the dump, I get to load these heavy bags of paper to the recycler. I wish there was some way to get on a no-unsolicited-mail list.
I just got word a few minutes ago. My beloved husband is coming home, and he’ll be home through New Year’s and Friday, too! Why? Dustin (leader of the pack) and Zach, Forrest’s driver manager, have arranged it so that he’s taking a load up to Alberta that delivers Monday. Joy, joy, joy. He’ll be home for dinner tonight, and I’ll get to wrap my arms around him for a whole couple of days!!! Life has given me something to smile about. Thank you, Dustin and Zach of the Northwest Regional Fleet of System Transport!