Sunday, August 5, 2001

 

10:20 p.m. Seems like only yesterday (and many yesterdays before that) -- when I was wondering what I was going to do ...

... and you'd think I'd know by now, but no.

I've finished a whole lot of home improvement, but I've still got a list of 33 items to tick off. We're sort of selling our house, but that could change. We know we're going to move before too much longer, or we might not move until the spring.

Nothing is sure ... and that's for sure.

So.

But I've really missed the pretty pictures, the frame that captures a day and displays it like the trophy it always is. I mean -- sure, I can drag a pot of black-eyed susies into the light by the window and admire it all by myself, but isn't it so much more fun to spread the yellow around? Schmear it all across the world? Yeah, I thought so, too.

I've lots to talk about. I've learned some new skills these last few weeks and I've managed to take a few photos for show and tell. More important, in spite of all things Microsoft and spongy, I've been able to get Photoshop working again, sort of. The camera download is working again, sort of. My system is working, sort of.

The data light on my modem is in a permanent flutter, and that doesn't seem right ... and people are coming through the house and looking it over and that's forcing me to make the bed as if I really care ... and that doesn't seem right either, but you do what you do, including piling up the shams.

Lots to talk about, but I'm going to pace myself. First, I'm going to answer email and then I'm going to try to figure out how this odd obsession with writing online fits into the bigger picture. It must fit, somehow ... because ... because ...

... in a world in which nothing is for sure, nothing lasts forever, and you're never home free, it feels right.

It does.

So -- see you tomorrow.