Interlude with Pine Siskin

A friendly reminder to our avian friends:

I understand that it's spring.  I understand you're excited about the longer days and warming weather - we all are.  I understand you can't wait to chat up that pretty little finch on the other feeder and talk to all of your friends about their winter vacations. But that doesn't make windows any softer.

Please, don't tweet and fly.

Thank you.

(The above was one of the lucky ones - just stunned.)

Upgrade

Roundabout six-odd years ago, I purchased the computer on which I'm currently writing this blog entry. (Well, I'm actually typing it on a Microsoft ergonomic keyboard which is somewhat newer. The computer is the means by which these words are transmitted to the Internet, and thus the world in general.)  In that time, I've stuck in a few RAM chips, fiddled with the graphics card, succumbed to one particularly insidious virus, and otherwise enjoyed the ups and downs of computer life.

But all things, as they say, must come to an end.  And, after six years, no amount of upgrading would keep this old boy in fighting trim for newer software. (Not that I buy much new software anymore... new games especially tend to come packed with computer-destroying viruses euphemistically referred to as "anti-piracy software.")

This afternoon, after wrestling with The World's Least Enthused Sales Guy (who I swear didn't actually want to sell anything), I placed my order for my new machine. (I was actually eyeballing the next model up, but with the money I saved I can invest in a kick-arse graphics card and some more software. That's the advantage to hole-in-the-wall machines; I can pop 'em open for upgrades not void any warranty.) It's supposed to be ready by this evening.

Right now, I'm doing my last-minute data transfers and software wipes, then I'll be crawling all over my room tracking down my master CDs and other stuff I need to complete the virtual brain transplant.

With luck, I'll have everything hooked up before I go to bed tonight. (Stop laughing! It could happen! Really, it could!)

The old computer now concludes its broadcast day.

UPDATE: Well, it's 7:50 PM, and I'm checking in on the new beast.  It's going... well, it's going, I'll leave it at that. Except to say that I can't seem to get the speakers to work, even though Windows 7 agrees that they're plugged in. And the World's Least Enthused Sales Guy once again gave me the brush-off; the man buying a computer before me was being shown every nut, cord, bag, and scrap of paper in his new computer's box, while they couldn't shove me out the door fast enough. (Well, to be fair, it wasn't just him; everyone in the frellin' store had better things to do than deal with a lowly paying customer.)

I'm trying to reload some vitals before I call it a night, but I gotta be honest: working with a mute machine is kinda unnerving. I count on Windows screaming at me if I do something wrong.

Oh, well... back at it...

LATER: Well, it's 10 PM, and - thanks to some friendly advice from my Windows 7-savvy sister - I finally got my speakers working!  Yay!

Unfortunately, I gotta shut down soon.  Work tomorrow... (Boo!)

But that means more money, so I can't complain... (Yay!)

(Gotta end on a positive note...)

Interlude with Caterpillar

This morning, we watched a hummingbird gather material for a nest. Later, at the park, I spied this furry little harbinger of spring.

Fingers crossed that we've seen the tail end of ice storms...

Hoofin' It

This past Xmas, my uncle surprised us with tickets to a local event: Cavalia, a touring equestrian/acrobatic show in the vein of Cirque du Soleil. With Grandpa's mental and physical state iffy at best, and relatives just plain unpredictable, we weren't altogether certain how it would go. But it was a Family Thing, and who knows how many of those we'll have before the Family is less complete than it is now?

The weather, as one might surmise from the photograph, wasn't particularly promising. Online reports indicated that the tent was climate-controlled, at least. We showed up about an hour before showtime to wait for relatives and gather tickets - a smart move, as the lines grew exponentially longer by the minute. Fortunately, the rest of the clan had the same idea, so we didn't have to stand around outside waiting. Also fortunately, Grandpa was in an "up" mood, relatively alert and mobile.

When we got inside, we discovered that our seats were closer than we'd anticipated - only about seven rows back, if off to the side. The online seating chart warned that these were "partially obstructed" views, but the stage looked plenty big enough for that not to be a problem. Meanwhile, we were wondering how to get Grandpa and his walker up the stairs to our seats. The problem solved itself before it was encountered; the staff, taking note of his mobility, offered two front-row floor seats for him and a relative. My horse-nut sister opted to sit by him, while the rest of us settled into our "partially obstructed" seats amid the growing crowd.

To cut a long story short, the show - after a bit of a slow start - proved magnificent. We failed to see how our view was in any way obstructed by anything. My only complaint was that they could've routed traffic better during the intermission. (Well, that and merchandising selection, but then I'm often disappointed with merchandising selection. Didn't stop me from buying a keychain, though...) We were all impressed - even Grandpa, who was more talkative than he has been in many a moon. Dad declared it the most spectacular thing he'd ever seen in his life - which covers more than 80 years, so that's saying something. As for my horse-nut sister, she came home with a keychain, a pictorial program, and the deluxe book.

All in all, this was probably one of the best belated Xmas gifts I've ever received.