One of my web sites was hacked this morning, at least that is what my security software alerted me to, so that I was able to login to the server and rewrite the compromised files. I sent the information to the hosting company, to see what they can come up with as to how this occurred, and after sending the all the pertinent information, it appears it was a false positive on the part of the security software. I am relieved.
Yesterday morning the telephone rang while I was in the shower. It was during business hours, so it could have been one of many possibilities. No message was left on the answering machine. Yesterday, and today, I worked on calling a list of the possible expected calls. I have not found anyone who called yesterday morning. There is one more possibility, I have left a message on their machine, so hopefully they will get back to me. If it wasn’t them, then I have no more ideas, other than it was a wrong number.
I was chatting with my Sister-The-Youngest-Girl this morning, and one of the things she wondered about was how I thought of things to write on my blog. This is an interesting question. I don’t really think about things to write about on my blog, not until I am writing them. My writing is a part of a dialogue, with the universe, with the force that underlies life, and all that exists. There is a greater entity listening when I write, guiding me, an entity beyond my understanding, an entity at the core of all that is good. I offer up to it what I can, and that is to write, about what I know, and often about what I know I don’t know, which reaches out to infinity.
It is very windy, 60 to 80 km/h range, the clouds scud across the sky. I’ve already bundled up and headed into the back yard to retrieve light items that have been bouncing around the back yard, the wind’s playthings. During a bad storm in the summer, a big purple ball ended up in our back yard. Attila asked around the neighbourhood, thinking to return it to the child who lost it, but no one claimed it. I am amused by it. Every time I look out the window on a windy day, it has moved. Sometimes it moves while I am watching, but most of the time it waits quietly in place to take me by surprise. Today the purple ball is having a ball.
The sun has been playing peek-a-boo all morning. I am glad of the sun today, it feels gentle and friendly as the it lights and warms me.
Snow squalls are possible this afternoon, tonight and at various times over the next week. Wouldn’t you know it, we had planned an evening out! The weather forecast predicts that when the temperature falls below freezing on Friday, it will not rise above it again during the following week.
The Christmas Tree is also a source of pleasure. It is a real tree, which I prefer, as does Attila. The scent of pine is intoxicating, not to mention the visual delight it affords.
The garage where our car is being worked on called this morning, they advised that the rear brakes needed work as well. I asked for an estimate, and with my limited experience in these matters, decided the bill was within reason and approved the work. They called me a second time, before they started the work, to apologize and tell me they had omitted cost of one of the brakes in the estimate, and quoted a new, higher estimate, which was still acceptable. I thanked the fellow for the call, because it was an honest thing to do, and considerate of the garage/customer relationship. The car should be ready to pick up today. When Attila gets home from work he will call them to confirm that the work is done, and if it is, we will pick up the car and pay the bill. Tomorrow I should be able to start ticking chores, that require a vehicle, off my list.
Date: 11:17 AM EST Wednesday 6 December 2017
Condition: Light Snowshower
Pressure: 101.0 kPa
Dew point: -5.6°C
Wind: WSW 44 gust 62 km/h
Visibility: 24 km
“Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant.”
1904 – 1986
Quite a comment on appearances!