It's done. Mostly.
On Sunday, Roland and Chris and I went over to the co-op. Lately, the entire area has been fog-bound, and that morning was no exception. The air temperature was hovering around freezing, and as we pulled off the freeway, we noticed that everything was covered with a fine layer of ice. The grass and trees glittered at us ferociously, aggressive in a picture postcard sort of way. With the fog as a backdrop and the sun breaking through when the wisps parted, it was a surreal and beautiful start to the morning.
Of course, it kind of went downhill from there.
This should have been a 15-minute enterprise. Kick Binky (not my machine, Roland's), convince the current Crab that its name was now Escher and it was on a different IP address, boot up the current Escher, convince it that its name is Crab and it's on Crab's IP address, reboot, start timed, copy over the mail spools. no problem, right?
Um.
Well, because we were silly people and missed a crucial bit of the process (changing an IP address) we discovered that if you have two Ethernet cards on the same network that think they're sharing an IP address, the Ethernet cards will begin to act in a strange and completely nondeterministic manner until you hard reboot and fix the problem.
Pain in the ass.
So we get that done and head back, and then spend another hour attempting to comprehend the mysteries of BIND 8. DNS is now functioning, and I go home and continue to play with it, getting it set all the way up.
So there's now a new machine--I need to do a few more things on it, but overall this went much more smoothly than the first time I did this. Now to provide my *own* nameservice and start experimenting with virtual hosting.
[I am Geek. Hear me roar.]
There are new instructions for subscribing and unsubscribing to the update list here. This new software package I'm using is very nifty and quite user friendly. You can do everything from a Web page, which is an improvement.Hey, Tess sent me an album! Annie Lennox's Diva. It is mighty, mighty tasty. Thank you, Tess! And Misha sent me clementines, which i'd never had before and have quite enjoyed.
Oh, yeah, Christmas was in there, too.When I moved away from home, I dropped Christmas with a profound relief. I have good memories of holidays from when I was very young, but as I grew older, my holiday experiences got worse and worse. My biofamily and I don't get along too well at the best of times, and during holidays this is magnified. There's always that undercurrent of bared teeth and veiled hostility.
I've been by myself for a number of Christmases, and it's never bothered me. I rather like it, as a matter of fact. I celebrate the solstice, and Christmas seems just sort of silly in comparison.
But this was Chris' first holiday out here away from his family, so he stayed with me for the weekend. I don't understand the whole wanting to be with family on the holidays thing, so his request just completely baffled me, but I said "whatever" and basically did what I would have done had he not been around—geeked and cleaned a bit.
It's not that I'm entirely unsympathetic. But I like being by myself, and being by myself on holidays has never bothered me a bit. there have only been a few times in my life when I knew it would be better if I wasn't alone, but those were completely unconnected to holidays. I like my friends, don't get me wrong, and I especially like those who are close enough to be considered family, but I was perfectly fine without friends. I spent a year pretty much alone after moving to Seattle, and it suited me just fine, for the most part.
Then again, I am suited to being by myself. It's not like I'm ever really alone, after all.
I really ought to have gotten more cleaning done, but my goals for the weekend were mostly accomplished. Well, except for sleeping. I've lost the ability to sleep through noise, it seems, and so I was up by 7:30 every single day of the weekend.
I think I've had better vacations. But I get a day off on Friday that I don't have to share with anyone! And that night, I get to wear my New Year's outfit, which consists of a slinky silver nightgown and silver nail polish on fingers and toes, and glitter--lots of glitter! I will be a sparkly girl.
Solstice was spent with the fambly, and I've been flitting back and forth to celebrations around the area. It's been fun, and I swear I had some holiday spirit. I seem to have lost it now. Maybe it'll come back, later.
fictional:"Foggy out, tonight."
"You always say that like you're surprised by it. It happens every year. We're living in a port town, after all. Comes off the ocean this time of year."
My father coughed and spat, scuffing his foot in the damp dirt. "Still. Don't like it. Makes my knees hurt, you know."
"Are you taking the stuff Kelso gave you?"
"Ran out." A shrug. "Kelso's out for the winter, you know."
Should have gotten more before he left, you daft old fart, I want to tell him. But he's my father and so I hold my tongue and keep raking. Kelso's gone east for the winter with the horses, and I shouldn't have mentioned his name. It's easier to pretend he doesn't exist when he's not here. Easier not to miss him so terribly. Now his absence silences both Dad and I, and I finish raking the yard with him watching, the mist softening our outlines and Dad's terrible eyes.
"Coming in, girl?"
"Thought I'd go to Chaney's for a bit, actually. I want to sit with Nina a while."
Miraculously, he just grunts and turns to go in without giving me any grief. In the doorway, he pauses and cocks his head at me. "Back before dawn. You wouldn't want me to wake to a cold house, would you?"
I cringe quietly. "Right." But I've gotten off the hook incredibly easy. The mention of Kelso's killed any desire my father had to see me squirm tonight, it seems, and now I have one more thing I can thank Kelso for.
I'm off, the fog silencing me and falling between me and the house. It's the small blessings, the fog that tangles itself between the trees as I set off. The silence, the slow strong breeze pushing me and the mist along. I'm not going to Chaney's. Tonight, I am going to the ocean.
how goes the war?
fog-bound.
