I got up early today. Somebody had stolen the light.
Toilet paper is disappearing at the grocery store. I saw a person stuffing their cart with packages. They were not wearing a mask.
My old printer died. Really. It told me so. The printer left a sad note on its little screen. Printer years are fewer than dog years.
I got a new printer. It is clever. It connected to WiFi without asking for a password. Should I be concerned?
It also prints. It is impressive at printing diagnostics about itself. I was confident that it could print things that I wanted duplicated from screen to paper.
It did. I sent a not-so-bad landscape photograph to the machine. The machine gave me a stunning image about the size of a postage stamp. On a large piece of paper.
I know we can be happy together. Today I grasped that was a not-printed agreement that the printer is in charge while my charge is to click “Print”
Tomorrow I will download the manual, a kind of prenup.
Mazar-i-Sharif, Afghanistan, about 1969
I have fond memories of Amsterdam in 1970. I wish I could remember them
I had no idea that donkeys wore shoes until I scanned this slide from my wife. Mazar-i-Sharif, Afghanistan. About 1970.
Of all the things that happened, more didn’t happen
We used to casually say “Have a nice day.” Now we say “Stay safe.”
Mazar-i-Sharif, Afghanistan, about 1970