Rosemary Kirstein

Deadline coming my for my writer’s group The Fabulous Genrettes, and I must devote as much time as possible to generating New Things for them to read. Being unable to take any time off from the Day Job, I’ll have to use the Christmas and New Year’s 3-day weekends for deep thought and much typing.

So, although I might post the odd bit now and then, there won’t be many improvements on the website itself.

Priorities, ‘kay?

Right.

Because, I wouldn’t want to end up with two copies…

No, wait… would I?

It’s odd having no working computer to call my own.

I feel — the only way to describe it is homesick.

After a hard day, you want to go home.   You want to stretch out, kick back, settle in.   Glass of wine, something to read, or listen to.   Everything’s where it should be, or at least where you expect it to be.  

You’ve tweaked your surroundings so that they’re  comfy.   Maybe you have some improvements in mind, but no rush, you’ve got what you need.  

You don’t have to adjust, adapt, second-guess or fuss.   You’re home.

Instead, I am, at the moment, continually in Guest Mode. 

Be polite, don’t make a mess.   Clean up after yourself immediately.  Don’t hog the best chair, the cheesecake, or the bathroom.  

Yesterday I turned on my computer, hoping that it would operate long enough for me to complete a total backup of all the information on it (it did).   When it came up, there was my favorite wallpaper: a gorgeous photo of the Veil Nebula.

Veil Nebula

snf.

And all my little icons were where they were suposed to be, and ….

Man, am I a dope for feeling homesick for my computer?  Because it really does feel like that!

So, after my 4-day getaway weekend, I plugged in the flash drive on which I had saved the work I did, was was shown this:

 

(But you have to click to see the large version.   Go ahead.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

 

 

I’m especially interested in that file from 4/4/2051…

Alas.   I cannot recover these files.