Tuesday, September 17, 2019

Virtual Sick Bay Revisited

In the last days of August my laptop started acting up… again. It was the second time in a month. This necessitated another trip to the Apple Store in Minneapolis, 150 miles away, where I surrendered my machine to the iMac wizards. The timing was awkward (isn't it always?). They needed at least three days to swap out defective hardware, and I was leaving the next day for a 10-day trip to BC and a round of facilitation training.

While they offered to ship my repaired laptop to wherever I wanted, I was leery of it catching up to me as a moving target, compounded by crossing a border. The last thing I wanted was to have my machine chasing me around the continent, so I swallowed hard and directed them to send it home, accepting that I'd be going dark for two weeks. Gulp.

How much did that shift my daily routine? Let me put it this way: I read eight books in 10 days. I'm that dependent on my electronic umbilicus. Now, thankfully, this second unscheduled work pause is over, and I'm digging out. While I suffered no loss of data (whew), my recovered email was again returned unsorted, and it will take me many hours to reestablish order.

I am home for another fortnight (before heading out for Houston), during which I hope to enjoy the fall (Susan and I will be picking crab apples this week and making jelly) and get in sync again with my electronic cadence. I have a number of virtual balls to keep in the air, and it's impossible to succeed without a laptop that's hitting on all cylinders. Here's hoping I have one.

Weather note
As my work takes me all over North America, I frequently get a chance to see the glazed looks on people's faces when I tell them I live in Duluth. Pretty much everyone wants to know how I tolerate the long winters and the short growing season. How short? While taking Lucie for a walk around the block three weeks ago I noticed as I passed our garden plot that the larger tomatoes were finally starting to turn red-orange. Unfortunately—on the same walk—I also noticed that the neighborhood maple leaves were also starting to turn red-orange. Sigh. Growing heat-loving vegetables in Duluth is only accomplished in a tight window.

To be sure, we are getting tomatoes, just not as many as gardens elsewhere. On the other hand, we don't need air conditioning—Mother Nature provides that on her own, without any assistance from Fedder—and for that Susan and I are highly appreciative. There are always trade-offs.

1 comment:

hucho ben said...
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