What a very peculiar Internet day

At some point after noon today, my Mac Mini decided not to connect to the Internet.  I went to the living room and got on Cliff's laptop; it connected to the Internet just fine, thank you very much.  So did my Ipad.  
I kept checking my own computer; no luck.  
A couple of hours later, I tried logging on to Cliff's computer again.  OK, now it wasn't connecting either.  
I turned off the power to our DSL modem because sometimes that helps.  Turned it back on, turned on my computer.  Nothing, on any computing device.  
So, I have about three days left on the ATT time I bought for the Ipad.  When all else fails, I have that.  
But not this time, because ATT wouldn't connect me either.  
Is there some giant piece of aluminum foil over my house that won't allow the Internet to reach me?  
A half-hour ago, I finally reached the Internet and farmed my Farmville farm.  Almost as soon as I got that done, the connection failed and I was, once again, without Internet.  Oh, but this time my Ipad connected by way of ATT.  
And now?  Everything is working.  I don't know why, and I'm not going to waste time wondering.  All I can say is this:  If you don't hear from me for a day or two, blame it on my Internet connection.

The weekend

My friend Joanna has visited Missouri twice now, both times in April.  Both times, the weather has been atrocious.  
April is not reliable in these parts:  You might get sunny, verdant days with trees blossoming; or you might experience below-freezing temperatures, tornadoes, rain and mud.  
We got the rain again.  The only sunshine Joanna saw here was on Friday afternoon.  I kidded her Saturday about sleeping in a trailer house during tornado season; I don't think she slept too well that night for wondering whether the wind she heard outside was just a harmless wind, or perhaps a tornado.  
It was wet and cold; that pretty well describes the whole weekend.  But we enjoyed one another's company, as well as that of the others who gathered here.
Joanna and I could not be more opposite:  She's a "girlie girl" who loves to shop, watches a lot of QVC, and enjoys nice clothes and jewelry.  We all know that isn't me.  Normally the two of us probably have never given one another a second thought, had we met in the real world.  But we connected in a chat room.  
Yesterday Joanna mentioned the time her cat, Jake, fell off her second-story deck.  
"I remember that," I interjected.  "Didn't that happen one morning before you went to work?"  
"Yes, it did."  
"We were in the chat room when that happened!"
Many of us from that chat room have gone through similar things together.  I recall Joanna's years working for an employer who thought he was master of the universe; Jo called him "the twit".  I was in the chat room to hear the good news that she had found a better employment opportunity, and she took the job she still has today.  She could have retired some time ago, but why stop working if you're enjoying what you do?  
I remember Joanna's sister getting cancer and steadily going downhill.  Jo and the others were there for me when my mother died.    
Several ladies in that chat room became widows during those years, and we all shared in their grief.  
We shared recipes and jokes and family stories; we sent songs and silly sound bites to one another to play in the chat room.  It was like a sort of cyber back fence where we could visit and share our lives, laugh and cry together.  
We could have these friends over for a visit (by way of the chat room) and not have to clean up the house for them, or get out of our pajamas, or even comb our hair.  
When we visited one another "in real life", we discussed the situations going on in the chat room, and checked in once in awhile to say hello, and see how chat was going without us.  

The hands you see here are those of Sue, another friend from Virginia.  On the screen is the famous chat room.  I happened to be visiting Sue when that crazy shooter was taking potshots at people;  In fact, we were in the Spotsylvania Towne Centre shortly before he killed a lady there.   This did not do much to endear Cliff to my new habit of flying around the country to meet people he'd never seen with names like "Bnana" and "Joyjoy" and "Sprkl and "Havok".   Yes, we mostly addressed one another by our AOL screen names.
Back to Joanna:  She always comes bearing gifts, souvenirs of Washington, DC this time; as well as matching Gold Wing T-shirts for me and Cliff.  When we were at the winery for breakfast, she shopped in their gift shop for something to take back to her friends in Virginia.  She's thoughtful like that.  
So I just have to be thankful that a loner like me who doesn't even look at people's faces in the grocery store got to meet a whole realm of faithful friends from California to Texas, from Virginia to New England; friends I don't hesitate to hug when I see them in person.  
It's probably the best thing about the Internet.  Even better than Google.

It's a small world

A couple of years ago I discovered several Kansas City blogs and began following them. Until then, most of my Internet friends were some distance away, scattered from New England and all up and down the east coast, clear to Oregon and California. And all points in between.

Clarrisa

Some of those KC bloggers have gone to Facebook in the past few months, and I'm following them there. One of them, Clarrisa, has pretty much stopped blogging altogether. She does have a few things to say on Facebook, though; she's a feisty little thing.

Arlene

Through her, I've also gotten somewhat acquainted with her mother, Arlene, and I follow her on Facebook as well. She lives in Richmond, just across the Missouri River. Cliff and I often shop at Walmart and Orscheln's in that town, so it wouldn't be unusual if our paths had crossed at some point. In fact, we were there today, getting license plates for the pickup... because the Lexington Bureau is too slow, and we'd have had to wait in line for an hour.

So I noticed someone with a familiar last name commenting on Clarrisa's wall on Facebook, and I mentioned I recalled working with someone by that name at Whitaker Cable back in the '70's. One thing led to another, and I found out that it was Arlene's cousin I had worked with. Not only that, but Arlene herself was employed there while I was there. We remember several of the same people.

I love this Internet.

So all this time, Clarissa wasn't such a stranger after all.

I suppose that means I'm going to have to let them hunt morels on my property next spring.

The magic of the Internet

"Isn't it a great country (world) where so many people woke up this morning thinking about a sick doggie in Missouri. I know thats why I turned on this puter in the middle of my cleaning day."

Marlene, one of the old AOL journals group, left that comment on my previous post.

Yes Ma'am, it certainly is.

Here's how I start each morning

I'm sure it comes as no surprise to anyone that the first thing I do in the morning, after making coffee, is to come to the computer. Even on weekends I'm out of bed long before Cliff is, so there's nothing pressing I have to do, once I'm awake. Besides, we all need something to do as we drink our coffee and get ourselves awake. Right?

I've always turned my computer off at night; so when I'm out of bed, I turn it on. Then I'm off to the bathroom and to the kitchen to make coffee. By the time I've done that, the old Dell is booted up and ready to surf. Or at least that's how it used to be.

These days, not so much. Oh, the thing turns on just fine, but when I sit down at the keyboard I find it isn't connected to the Internet. Every. Single. Morning.

My next move after this happens is to open up Cliff's laptop, which is never turned off until it's moving as slow as molasses because it's used all it's resources (don't get me started), and see if it connects. Nine times out of ten, it does, so I know the problem is with my computer and not my router or DSL.

So I turn off my desktop, get on my knees (not a pleasant thing for a person with faulty knees), reach under my desk, and unplug the tower. I go surf for awhile on the laptop, come back in here and plug my computer in, wait for it to boot up, and then, usually, it connects just fine.

I tried leaving it on all night; no dice. Next morning it wouldn't connect to the Internet until I unplugged it, waited, and plugged it back in.

Last night after I turned the dadgummed thing off, I decided to unplug it then, rather than wait until morning. It took it awhile this morning, but it did finally connect without my turning it back off and unplugging it.

I feel I'm getting closer and closer to that Mac Mini. I've been checking to make sure my external hard drive has all my good stuff on it... pictures and songs and such.

By the way, Cliff says "Mac Mini" sounds like something you'd buy at McDonald's.

I'm tired of Windows updates that refuse to update but constantly sit on my task bar nagging at me. I'm sick of seeing my anti-virus find new unwanted programs and viruses at least once a week. The glowing reports in my comment section from happy Mac owners are succeeding in swaying me to the other side.

Meanwhile, I have a cow staring at my front door; I put her baby up last night so I could get some milk, and she's bound to start bawling at me soon. She isn't worried about the calf, but she knows sweet feed is waiting when I let her in the barn.

Just like clockwork, Bonnie is getting very vocal. Have a good day!