Letters to Holly

Tuesday, November 16

Mutable Plans

Your Sister and Sister-in-Law talked yesterday and worked out some details of Thanksgiving. Then Your Brother called me, and we exchanged new information. As of yesterday afternoon, Your Parents were going to Alabama. As of six hours later, they are not. Many pairs of hands were thrown into the air.

We are going. We are on the record with this. Sharing rooms will let us stay in in the Alabama house, and the single grandparents will share a room. I ran the suggestion by My Mom, and she's OK with it. Also, we're not coming back the day after we drive down. I told Your Brother we'll call to keep them informed as we drive down, but we have no idea how long this might take.

I thought the radio interview was on the weekend, but it's tonight ... while I'm at the Elton John concert. Crap beans. I was told another interview ext week might be possible, but as we're leaving town for Thanksgiving, there remains only a small window of opportunity.

New carpet welcomed me to the house. It's not much different than the original, but the padding is better. And of course the new carpet is a billion times cleaner. I unplugged and unhooked and de-cabled the TV and its accessories before leaving home and reconnected everything when I returned. The wifi wouldn't work. I checked the phone cable and AC wire and hit the reboot buttons. Nothing. I checked the phone outlet and found it working. I wondered if the carpet people had nudged the baseboards against the internal wiring and spent a few minutes wondering how soon they could come back and fix it and if they'd need to hire an electrician. Finally, I moved around the plugs to different outlets. That worked. It shouldn't make a difference. A cosmetic change like this shouldn't affect the contraption. And yet. That kind of fix is akin to magic. "I'm doing this in hopes a meaningless alteration will make something work the way I want." Took me almost an hour to get it going again.

Picture of the Day
Sometimes the British tabloids give us something beyond cheesecake and fake news. Here's a look of images from the new space station window. This image in particular is straight out of an industrial scifi movie. Yet she's really up there, 220 miles above us, reclining in a TIE Fighter cockpit.

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