Noodles

There are a few controlling people who hate the fact that I have a blog (dare I mention inlaws?).  
You know, the type of people who think that if they're scared to death to do something, everybody should be scared.  One of them recently had a conversation with Cliff about my "problem".  (Chuckle)
I'm sorry, I won't live my life letting fear keep me from doing what I love.  You go shopping, if that's what you want to do.  I will blog.   
Do you realize how much I would miss out on, if it weren't for my blog?  I don't meet a lot of new people in person.  I don't drive, and Cliff and I don't travel much.  But I have "met" so many wonderful people through blogs!  
In fact, the Internet in general has been one of the biggest blessings in my life.  For one thing, it got me back in touch with one of my favorite former coworkers, Jessica.  The one born in Arkansas to hippie parents.  
Last Saturday the local grandchildren, plus a couple of other people, came here for noodles (a family tradition in this house).  The only other food I fixed was mashed potatoes, because most of us like to put our noodles on mashed potatoes.  No green vegetable.  No dessert.  Just noodles and mashed potatoes, because that's really all my grandchildren cared about.  As I was making the noodles, I posted this picture on Facebook:

Among the people who asked for the recipe was my little buddy, Jessica. 
I mentioned that when you make noodles this way, you really need a child unrolling them.  I remember unrolling my grandma's noodles for her.  
Yesterday Jessica tried my noodle recipe for the first time, and posted a picture of her daughter unrolling the noodles.

 I knew by the picture that those noodles were perfect, and Jessica confirmed that.  I think this makes us relatives.  We are more than blood sisters; we are NOODLE sisters!  Noodles are a family tradition.  


Here's a picture of my real-life sister making noodles with her great-granddaughter at Christmas:

Don't you just love family traditions?  And don't you love the Internet, where those of you who aren't scared of your own shadow can keep in touch?  


Speaking of family traditions, I think Noodle Day may become a monthly event.  

25 years of dot com.

Twenty-five years ago today, the first dot-com Internet domain was registered.  It certainly didn't make a ripple in my world; I was probably more concerned about my son's impending graduation.  In fact, the Internet didn't mean a thing to me until 1998, when we bought our first computer.  
I have no idea how the Internet works.  How is it that I can type words onto a computer monitor that, with the touch of a key, are out there at that very second for the whole world to see (OK, 150 people, but who's counting)?  There's no wire transferring the words.  The words are stored somewhere, but how?  Where?  You can't touch them or see them as pages filed in a storage box.  It's all invisible.
It's possible to instant-message somebody on the other side of the world and have a conversation in real time.  Incredible.
We can do a Google search (or in my case, a Swagbucks search) and get information about any subject; of course, we must sort through it all and decide which information is from the proper source.  
When I'm sick, I can hunt up my symptoms and have some idea what might possibly be wrong with me before I head to the doctor.  I've learned, though, to never mention to my doctor that I looked something up on the Internet.  He'll say with a groan, "Oh yes, the INTERNET," as though it's his number one nemesis.    
The World Wide Web will forever be a mystery to me.  More than that, a miracle.  When I was a kid, I remember wishing I could make myself invisible; now I can, because you're reading my thoughts here, but you don't see me, do you?  I'm invisible!  
I'd love to tell you I don't believe in the Internet because, after all, I can't touch it or see it or feel it.  Surely it doesn't exist.  How can it be?  It isn't logical.  Common sense tells me something like this is impossible.  I wonder if anybody has ever published a book explaining why the Internet isn't real.  If such a book existed, I'm sure somebody would buy it and believe it.  I can imagine the slogans they'd come up with:  "The Internet is the Opiate of the People," for example.  
But just like certain other invisible forces in my life, I know the Internet is real because I see the results of its existence every day.  When I speak to it, I get the answers I'm looking for (always making sure the answers are coming from the proper source, of course). 

Who Has Seen the Wind?

Neither I nor you. 

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?  

Neither you nor I,  

But when the trees bow down their heads, 

The wind is passing by.

Christina Rossetti