I knew I did not want to move my journal and web pages. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.
I have been flitting about the Internet for years now, joining here, and leaving contact information there. All fine and good, but now my steps must be retraced and my actions must be accounted for. Keeping a record of my activities would have been a good idea. I did not do that. Taking a logical approach to building connections in cyberspace would have been a good idea. I did not do that.
What I did do was have fun.
Right now, I am not having fun following my own mistakes down dead ends and correcting whatever can be corrected. Every time I think, "There, that does it"; another little-thing-that-takes-a-long-time-to-figure-out-and-fix comes up. I am racing the calendar on this one; the old URL for the journal disappears on November 22, or is that November 30. There I go again, you can see how much trouble I have getting a handle on order and detail.
This time I am writing down where I go and what I do. The information is being entered into a table on several web pages and kept in a folder with the rest of my site. It might help, but then again, I may lose the files, and then it will be a complete waste of time.
Soon though, very soon, the move will be accomplished and I will again be a free-range woman. (New Location)
Attila lost a dear friend to cancer on Sunday last. They had worked together for years and grew to respect and trust one another. We will be attending the "Visitation" this evening, the funeral will be held tomorrow afternoon. Attila called their mutual friend in Mexico to let him know the sad news. The conversation took place completely in Spanish, which Attila has been learning over the last few years. Without facial expressions and body language to aid communication, it was a bit of a challenge. Regardless, Attila conveyed the sad news and his feelings very well.
Although I do not "like" funerals, the opportunity to join in space and time with others that loved this man is welcome. The Visitation and the Funeral help me find a path through the pain. We have lost him, but he is being woven into the fabric of our lives in a new way.
In the background, in the small spaces of time that open here and there, Attila and I have been organizing our home. It feels as if we just moved in together. We are busy sorting everything we own with an eye to mutual organization.
We are both "pack rats", saving all sorts of odds n' ends for a rainy day. Objects that we do not use, and probably never will use, dominate our home. Yet, we cannot seem to part with most of these treasures.
Attila will look at the pile of ancient picture frames he has always meant to refinish and use. He will pick up each one and examine it in search of a flaw that will justify the trash heap. Each one redeems itself and is placed carefully with all the others that have passed inspection. When the sorting is done, the new pile is the same as the old pile.
My storage nemesis relates to cloth. One of the things I studied while pursuing for my first degree at University was the nature and use of fabrics. This involved the study of chemistry and many other technical subjects. What I found most interesting though, was the actual application of all these technical details. I liked to make useful objects from fabrics. Fascinated as well with the concept of "waste not, want not", I began to collect lost but interesting fabrics. The collection has grown over the years. Like Attila, I am unable to find fault with any pieces in my collection and so save the lot.
We did both agree about the fate of the old coffee machine. Years ago it failed us, worn out in some inexplicable way. Unable to face a morning without coffee, we quickly purchased another machine and put the old one on the workbench. We fully intended to tinker with the old machine and get it up and running. It sat on the workbench for several years. No one touched it. It was moved to a shelf for storage. Our intentions towards it remained honorable. We have both come to feel that our hopes for the old coffee machine were rather unrealistic. We are now willing to let it go.
I think you can see why our efforts to organize are taking a very long time.
|RECIPES :: Cast
© Duane Maki 1991
All Rights Reserved
By the Easy Chair
The Dominion of Wyley McFadden
by Scott Gardiner
Under African Skies
from Graceland by Paul Simon
Temp: 1` C
Wind: SW 15 km/h
Sunset 4:55 PM EST
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