Tall Moments

No, not me. I'm short. Only 5 foot, 3 and a half inches. But I married a tall man and birthed some ridiculously tall children. Grace is 5' 9" and her brothers tower over her. I took this picture at graduation. Grace commented how her brothers make her feel short.

But the tall story came later that night, well actually the next morning. After the seniors' graduation party, Spencer went to another party at Ohio State University and ended up spending the night, along with a friend, at the friend's sister's apartment. The next morning he called and said they were getting ready to go out to breakfast -- but first, the sister asked him to change all the light bulbs in her apartment. That cracks me up. You get a tall guy at your apartment and put him to work changing light bulbs. At least I know he has a skill for the future.
Here he is at graduation.

Laptop Life Spans

My laptop is on its last legs.
I guess I've know this for awhile, as it started to move more and more slowly. Calling up papers to grade takes extra seconds to download. And when there are 100 papers, those extra seconds add up.
I can't remember how old my laptop is, but somewhere around 4 or 5 years old. I think that's pretty good for a laptop, which sometimes has the life expectancy of a squirrel. I wrote three years ago about how many laptops I've had to buy, so apparently they've gotten a little more reliable.
In 2009, this one went to the shop for a complete overhaul. Now it's showing similar signs of aging.
Back when it was healthy, I could have 5 or 6 windows open and switch between them, along with having music or NPR playing. Now the computer balks, as if it can only think of one thing at a time. I click on email and it pauses as if wondering, "Now where did I put that?"

A stack of my laptops that had died in 2009.

Along with slowing down, the computer has started to overheat. I have my own remedy for that. I vaccuum the vents to try to remove dust and cat hair or whatever else might be causing it to overheat. This time, that did not solve the problem.
As I'm typing, I can feel my left hand getting hotter as the heat from the computer vent rises. I remove my hand as often as possible, both to help the computer and to help the hand cool down. One day last week as I was trying to finish grading papers, the computer got so hot that it shut down -- making that little zzzeee noise that it does then going black. If you've ever had a computer spontaneously shut down, you'll know what I mean.
So I started working on my computer in small bursts. Half an hour here, half an hour there. I put it to sleep every time I walk away from it so it can cool down again.
Yesterday after work, I woke up the computer to check my email, check my blog and saw  the final sign that my computer is dying. The clock is off.
It's not like the clock has moved to another time zone, telling me West Coast time or even France time. No, the clock is off by 35 minutes.
That is such a startling time mistake for a computer. I'm kind of embarassed for it. So now, although it's 5:57 a.m. according to my healthy cell phone, the computer says 5:22 a.m.
The clock is one of the most basic computer features, if it can't keep up here, well I think this computer may be headed to the computer rest home to chug along with the other computers that remember the day when they were the fastest and the best, and when they never lost track of the time.
I'm not in a panic though, afraid of losing all those photos and teaching plans. Because I have Carbonite. I don't want to sound like some kind of commercial, but Carbonite is a backup plan. I pay $59 for the year and if I buy a new laptop, because mine dies or just because I want to, Carbonite will download all my old files to my new computer.
So go ahead and overheat,  little computer, but first, let me check my Quicken account to see if you've stashed any extra money that I can use to buy a new laptop.

First Paragraph, Tuesday Teaser -- The House I Loved

Every Tuesday, Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea posts the first paragraph of her current read. Anyone can join in. Go to Diane's website for the image and share the first paragraph of the current book you are reading.

This week I'm starting The House I Loved by Tatiana de Rosnay. Paris, France in the 1860s. How can it go wrong? Here's the first paragraph.

My Beloved,

   

I can hear them coming up our street. It is a strange, ominous rumble. Thuds and blows. The floor aquiver under my feet. There are shouts too. Men's voices, loud and excited. The whinny of horses, the stamp of hooves. It sounds like a battle, like in that hot and dreadful July when our daughter was born, or that bloody time when the barricades went up all over the city. It smells like a battle. Stifling clouds of dust. Acrid smoke. Dirt and rubble. I know the Hotel Belfort has been destroyed, Gilbert told me. I cannot bear to think about it. I will not. I am relieved Madame Paccard is not here to see it.

Well? What do you think about the opener?

Also this week is Teaser Tuesdays.

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

Grab your current read
Open to a random page
Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!
Here's mine from page 36:

So what is it, pray, that I hoard down here with me in a battered shoe box? You are longing to know, are you not? Well, letters! Precious, precious letters. A dozen of them or so, letters that mean more to me than outfits. Your first love letters to me. Yes, I have kept them preciously, for all those year. From Maman Odette. From Violette. From...I will not say his name. I cannot...From my brother, from the Baronne de Vresse, from Madame Paccard, from Alexandrine.

 Well, I'm not so sure. Maybe it's the translation. The fact that the letters mean more to her "than outfits" is not too encouraging. Sounds like she may be a little shallow. And I don't like that she keeps the precious letters "preciously." I'll probably give it a try.
What do you think?

Party Pooper

I'm not good at hosting parties. Some people are. I can plan the party, but I'm kind of dreading it the whole time. I can make the food, clean the house. I have a husband who works hard to trim the yard and hang plants. He sets up tables and canopies. Still, I have this feeling of dread within. The whole time, I can't wait for it to be finished.

Here's one of the canopies set up before the party

If I'm having a small party with friends, I enjoy it while they are here, but I still dread it ahead of time. For a big party, like the graduation one, I don't even enjoy it in the middle. There's always ice to get from the freezer, coolers to restock, pasta salad to fill from the bowl in the refrigerator, sangria to pour in the bowl from the refrigerator. I try to greet everyone but feel like I have no quality time for anyone. All of those things make me a bad hostess.
We held Spencer's graduation party with two other families. One of the families has twin boys, so we had a total of four graduates. We estimated 130 people might come. I think we had more than that.
The day was incredibly hot -- in the 90s. Although we took no pictures of the graduates or their friends during the party, for some reason, we got a shot of the window thermometer to remember how hot it was.
Before the party, the house was a chilly 72. Once people started coming in and out of the doors, and the house filled up with people, the air conditioner worked non-stop but couldn't cool things off.
Outdoors, we had canopies and fans that mist along with a spritzer to stand in. We blocked off the alley behind our house and had beanbag games, along with hula hoops and sidewalk chalk. I never even made it out to the alley.
One of the dads is a chef. He cooked chicken wings in a deep fryer outside, along with grilling burgers and hot dogs.
I hugged people who I didn't know and welcomed people who wouldn't have spoken to me in public.
At one point, the house was so crowded with high school students that a boy standing by the back door lamented, "I have to get all the way to the front door to leave." It probably took him a good 10 minutes to get through the crowd, and our house is small.
It was only later, as I was sitting in the living room with my brother, sister-in-law, niece, and my daughter Grace that  I realized, I didn't take a single picture during the party. I can't believe it!
I did get a shot of the four graduates before the party started. Here they are.

Hayden and Spencer, the two on the left, are best friends. Jacob and Tyler, the two on the right, are best friends. Hayden and Tyler are twins. Thus, four grads, one small house and a crowded party.