Abandoned church/schoolhouse, South Dakota, at about the level of technology I'd like to have right now.
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate multiple machine failures? I have? Ad nauseam, you say? Well, let me say it again in case the message didn't get through. Threads and Traces is finally back on the air, as it were, after a couple of weeks of transition problems and a computer swooning with the vapors. For a while there it looked as if I needed to fire up the shortwave radio.
I'm assuming that everyone is still here after yesterday's rapture non-event. We are gearing up for an intense couple of weeks, including an overnight-only trip to San Francisco, and ending with the renaming of the new building. Then comes what I hope is the last Summer of Chaos, moving everything into the new building for good, while at the same time installing major storage systems to handle the collections. Then comes the fall semester and teaching the museum exhibits/preparation class. If the world does not end in October, I'll get a breathing space in December.
I can't believe that I moved to the prairies for a slower pace of life. Where did it go?
But I'm proud to say that all that graduate education has paid off. Last Friday I became a legal forklift operator. This was to make OSHA happy about our use of a little electric lift in our field jacket and oversized storage area. I have now taken three driving tests in my life--the original one, the Class B chauffeur's license one so that I could drive a schoolbus for Nature Center outings years ago, and now the forklift one--and the anxiety is just as bad every time. I did, however, pass every time (although I thought they were going to impound the ancient Nature Center bus on the spot as parts kept softly falling to the ground).
As a friend on Facebook pointed out, there are OSHA-approved hard hats in the shape of Stetsons. I think I have to go there.
There are recipes and genealogy tales to catch up on. More soonest. Y'all have a good day, now. Cheers, Sally-Bob.