Bootstraps

Nothin' ever kept a good woman down for long, and a bad one gets up even faster.

First, let me apologize for my last, possibly whiniest-ever, post.  I appreciate your patience with me while I retreated to a dark corner to lick my wounds.  As a general rule, I don't approve of self-pity, but I guess we all fall prey to it from time to time.  Thanks for not pointing out, Gentle Readers, that ALL of my problems belong to the First World, and are pretty puny compared to what others endure.

Thank you also, to my kind, understanding, and loving Flight Path Mystery Knitalong participants.  Your generosity is making it possible for me to correct my yardage error in the kits without also running out of groceries.  We who are about to snack salute you.

Thanks also to the Universe, for keeping me ever humble, and always introducing lessons to me about the way things are, and the person I am.  I'm rarely happy to receive these lessons when they come, but they are always the ones I remember:

Yesterday I sat down to post my thanks to the KAL knitters for their understanding and kindness.  I was confident in my ability to do this, in spite of having lived in the Seventh Circle of Computer Hell for the last week.  The consequences of having to replace ones Operating System are dire, but I was happily starting to recover from the shock, and put the episode behind me.  And that's when the hard drive crashed.  It literally made the sound you hear when Wile E. Coyote drops off a cliff.  And then the monitor went black and all this code started flying up the screen, just like in The Matrix.  An hour on the phone with Microsoft confirmed my fear:  My hard drive had taken a Dirt Nap. 

Having no computer whatsoever is a lot worse than having lost all your data, so I can now personally attest that everything is relative.  Phillip, it should be noted, is not, um, Hardware-Actuated.  That is to say, he'd rather have a $2000.00 doorstop than take a screwdriver to a sick PC.  And I don't blame him; that sort of adventure is not for the, shall we say, Cerebral Set.  He advised me to leave it alone, permanently, and use his machine until we could save up for a new one for me.

But a friend pointed out to me that hard drives are pretty much the only moving part in a computer, and as such, likely to wear out and need replacement.  The matter-of-fact way she said it made me think "Hey yeah!  It's not like you move to a new house because a lightbulb burns out..."  And with that, the Real Mary, the Take-No-Prisioners, Yes-Of-Course-I'm Gonna-Cut-That-Sweater-With-Scissors Mary jerked out of her self-pity fugue.  I went to the electronics mega-mart.  I spent $70.  And I got out the screwdriver.

It wasn't even hard.  I taught myself how to turn a sock heel, for crying out loud.  Compared to that, Hard Drive Replacement is about as challenging as Donut Eating.  And, as it turns out, even more satisfying.  I'm not ashamed to tell you I feel just a little bit smug about having taken control over the problem.  It made all the other stuff that's been going on seem more manageable, too. 

I am Knitter.  Hear Me Roar.