No Harrowing Adventure

I am, as the Old Biddies said back in the day, stove up this morning. 

Third Daughter, who lives away from home, has mono.  She works as a barista on weekends and someone's stirrer, cup, or sneeze passed the virus to her.  Just after I was done working last night, we phone chatted. O how miserable she looked.  I just wanted to snatch her home!  That's not quite doable since Youngest Daughter has compromised immune system and we don't have an isolation chamber.  Why, o why, didn't I look for that in a dwelling when we were stumbling from run down house to out of our price range grandeur and everything in between?!  So, listening to her tell us what she didn't have, and how she can't go out in public without a mask and gloves and scare people, not to mention the energy she doesn't have, and the work she'll be missing so she's afraid to spend any money [told mostly in sign language because her throat is so raw] ... we decided to gather an apocalyptic care package and take it to her. 

Eldest Son, Youngest Daughter, and I did a mini road trip after he got off work at 10 p.m. 

Post Picture Funk Solution

You go to bed, hours later than usual, buzzing with the high of a picture at the point of only fine details to add.  It's a restless sleep.  You have nightmares of a pencil rebellion - hundreds of colors walking off the job, demanding better hours and fairer usage - grateful when the alarm goes off despite the fact your eyes are red and your pupils are still somewhat blown out.  Still, when you manage to focus, the picture isn't horrible and the pencils, ThankGawdAlmighty, are exactly where you left them, all present and accounted for!

A mug of coffee will get you jump started, the day will be long but the weariness worth it; all the things you tell yourself does not dent that feeling of being blue deviled by the crash.  I don't know how real artists do it, over and over, confronting this low after the effervescent buzz of creation! No wonder historically; starving and ridiculed, artists struggled so often against the label nutz. They sure didn't have the ease of flip a switch lighting, flush toilets, pre-made canvas, readily available papers and supplies - No amazon two day delivery. Yet, our museums are full, our history is thick, and our souls fed by those intrepid, dedicated artists that still give us wonders to behold in their works.  I am humbled and awed but definitely wishing they'd left a note or two behind about how they crawled out of the Post Picture Funk.

from The Calligrapher's Colouring Book by Renee Chin

Programmed to Save and Now, It's Official

I've worked on screens since 1993, or thereabouts. It didn't take me long to embrace the mantra "Save is Your Friend!" Some programs had auto-save, even back then, but they were memory hogs and tended to argue with Windows causing crashes and memory dumps.  Clearing out, never mind finding those ~tmp files, was an adventure in itself. Now those auto-saves argue with your virus protection and frankly, Virus Protection better win!  Shutting it off to save your data is not a good idea, just mentioning.

In Living Color

I've been absent from yeoldeblog for sometime now.  This was due to a sudden health incident a bit over two years ago. I've adjusted to the new normal with only the occasional, "O that was stupid" pause to figure out how to get this or that done.  I will not bore anyone with details except to confess I avoided confronting a bit of depression by hiding out in good, bad and indifferent e-books.  Reading is an excellent addiction, right up there with creating yet another playlist with the perfect balance of energy, amusement, and soul sustaining rhythms.  Like my playlists, my reading is eclectic and seldom of interest to anyone, though I do blather on about both if anyone gives me an opportunity.

I've also re-discovered a new hobby.  Coloring.  Yeah, that's right, in books, in sketch pads, on the desk calendar, on 3x5 and 4x6 cards, on postcards, etc.  Although it's supposed to be relaxing and calming, perverse creature that I am, I find it energizing.  Creation that moves from black lines on paper to bright and colorful 'art' charges me up.  I actually feel buzzed after a certain point, almost high with delight.  So, another addiction to add to my list of functional dysfunctions.  Learning to work with your flaws while weeding out the crap with a ruthless hand is a Big Plus of Old Biddy-hood, just mentioning.

Dr. Who Weekend & Cosmic Moments

Family and I were @ConKasterborous in Huntsville, AL over the weekend for  #ConK2018 and had a wonderful time! It's the second time we scrimped and saved for a year and dealt with the challenges of everyone getting days off at the same time [harder than you might imagine for 6 people], booking rooms, not getting lost or missing the exit, and walking much farther than my oxygen starved legs thought they could -ha! amazed myself, I did.  We forgot the world beyond the Con existed for a while, enjoyed our twisted family humor, and ate waaaaay too much good food -hmm, is that possible? -and spread our savings among many talented vendors displaying and selling talismans that will make us smile throughout the year, especially on the hard days that come to all of us.

I recognized some faces from last year, met some new folks, had and listened to several excellent conversations, and remembered to make time to thank the hotel staff at the Westin who seem to take us all in stride; the Security folks that might have been laughing at us but still seemed to enjoy it all anyway; and Ms Bonnie Auten.  You might have seen us ... we were all wearing T-shirts that matched on Day One.  There were So Many groovy t-shirts and costumes and Much Loving Laughter!

Highlight for me was the two question and answer sessions @Mark_Sheppard gave.

Back to Basics - Post Election Thoughts

Written November 13th, 2016:

If you've popped over here from Twitter to be sure I'm not a bot, let me assure you I'm very much a live person with flaws, foibles, and thoughts that struggle not to exceed 140 characters. I hated twitter until this election cycle.  It seemed too silly, too fast, too limited. However, I discovered it to be a blessing from July onward. Quick links to news, stats, and research points was welcome amidst the turmoil and, I admit, over-bloody-whelming information overload.  I took both sides with a grain of salt post primaries.  As I drilled down, that rapidly changed.

The brutal, vicious rhetoric of rallies and surrogates spinning lies for pay damaged my trust in the Fourth Estate.  It has not recovered and probably won't until they critically assess profit vs duty to public in an open way with public [not government] input.  They failed to research and fact check; I could not, as a citizen, afford to do the same. I voted and I wish that could just be the end of it, truly. I wish I could trust the media to alert me to issues of relevance with complete research not bites and bits flashing half-assed hype. I wish I could trust the voice of the barely 1/4 of Americans that elected this man had the best interest of everyone in mind.

The Directed Mob

I do not have cable or satellite television; haven't since mid-2001, once the analog stations went digital I was ready to live without them.  I read news online from a variety of sources.  I prefer the variety of Real People discussing the news rather than a Talking Head reading me bits and pieces, so I frequently - OK, always - scroll the comment boards when available.  So, I confess, I'm fascinated by the fact that for every one story about Clinton there are eight to ten articles about Trump. The media corporations that were once the Fourth Estate are captivated by his Game Show; enthralled by the outrageous, enchanted by the hits, and eager to pretend they don't understand how they created this ... mess ... and now have no idea what to do with it, though that doesn't stop them from analyzing the phenomenon and whispering amongst themselves, "Oh Lordy, Miss Scarlet, what's to become of us?!"

Tonight I watched one article by the Washington Post achieve approximately 200 posts in 10 minutes.  The pace has not slowed down and it's been over three hours now.  The Washington Post must be so gratified, until or unless they read the comments.  It's one of those can't look away/ don't really want to see it type of things.

It's Another New Year's Eve

One year ends, another begins.  
Seems I’ve noticed this happening before.  I’m no more excited about this year than I was about last year.  It will have the usual adventures common to all: plumbing that picks the most inconvenient hour to quit working, vehicular challenges that arrive unannounced and computers that glitch no matter how frequently you update.  Colds will remain incurable and will wear you out, stomach bugs will take a week to work through everyone in the house, and someone will spill the shampoo in the shower but no one knows who that someone was.  It will continue to be my lot in life to have but four sheets of toilet paper remaining when I enter the bathroom.  No one will hear my pleas for assistance until I shriek like a banshee [it is as humiliating as it sounds, truly]. Undoubtedly there will be a mix of good days, bad days and days where I wonder how I could think it was Wednesday until 2 o’clock in the afternoon when I realized it was Tuesday.  And so, instead of resolutions, since I am an Old Biddy, this year I’m predicting the future.  Laugh with me….

What I Did - And Didn't Do - For Summer Vacation

Natter, gabble, nonsense, stuff, blah blah blah

Coming as soon as I can import my fat file without blowing a hole in the space time continuum.

Until then .... pretty image to gaze at (click to see the larger image by Thomas Ender Blick Vom Nussberg)