July 16, 2011
Icons disappear. I try to reboot. The Blue Screen of Death! Crash! A siren wail of grief and disbelief. Oh, my precious files! (Not total disaster. It’s not the computer I do my work on.) But, oh, oh, my precious files!
July 17, 2011
We’ve been friends forever. Our conversation is a cryptic code decipherable only with the code book of our shared history. She wants to borrow the Thursday Next book I’ve told her about. Casually, she mentions she’s quit listening to the religious radio station that’s all she’s listened to for years now, and started listening to the classical radio station again. Apropos of nothing she says she’s thinking about getting rid of her dining room table to make room for her easel or her drawing table. My heart is doing the happy dance. Rays of sunlight are finally breaking through the low, dark clouds.