Today the phone has been ringing non-stop. "My VUView doesn't work right." "I can't remember how to install Notes, or why we have to." "Hi, Momma - how's your day?" "Why can't I open an e-card here?" "What do you mean, no more stationery in Outlook?! You can't do that!" Au contraire, mon ami - I can most certainly suggest it. If people don't get your mail anymore because it appears to be sending a .jpeg, which might be infected, don't come whining to me. I told you so. If people start ignoring your email because they can't friggin' read dark blue print on a purple background, don't come whining to me. I reserve the right to tell you I think you're an idiot. So between the e-mails, the phone calls, the piddly-assed problems - I'm trying very hard to remember that I love my job. No, really - I do. Honestly. Wouldn't lie about that, no sir. Love it.
Like a bad penny.... We used to scuba dive as our hobby, a hobby which eventually led to the procurement/construction of a small dive trailer to haul four sets of gear and four cylinders. It was a simple but elegant design - a box on a single axle frame, with the beginnings of a mural painted on both sides, and dive flags at either end. The kids had helped paint it, with Stephen taking special pains with the sharks. When we moved to Nashville, we sold it. We didn't dive as often, and we had no place to store it. Nearly ten years have passed since that October in '99 when we came up here, and I hadn't thought much about the trailer. I thought I had seen it the last time we went to Greenfield, but I wasn't sure. Then Saturday my mother-in-law called to say the neighbor across the street had our trailer for sale. The neighbor was asking a certain price, and we offered a little less. She called back later to say it was ours for the picking up. Sunday we made the trip to fet...
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