Home Away… Really Away

   I was down at Iola, Kansas today doing some title work at the courthouse. It had probably been a few years since the last time I was there. I noticed a few changes. One that threw me was the highway had been changed so it comes in East of town, instead of basically right into the West side of town. I actually missed the exit and had to do a U-turn right on the highway to get back to the exit. After finishing at the courthouse I decided to take a drive by the old homestead. It had changed quite a bit. Here’s a picture. You can click it to see bigger picture.

Upgrade, Upgrade, Upgrade…

No sooner did I heed to the urgent message from WordPress to upgrade to version 2.8.1 than here comes the message to upgrade to version 2.8.2. Well, I think it’ll wait a day or two. Y’see, I not only have to upgrade the Chappell Family Blog, but my Oil & Gas Attorney Blog, and Bandolero’s Blog, and the Black Star 231 Blog. Bob Hanrott got frustrated with blogging, otherwise I’d also have to upgrade his Epicurean Blog, which was probably the best blog of the lot.

Besides blogs, though, the Chappell Family Website itself got a sort of upgrade with the addition of site search feature from the home page. I’ve been playing with some search scripts off and on (mostly off) for a few months. The scripts that didn’t involve a “hook” to Google or some other commercial facility were generally too convoluted and/or unreliable, but using Google or some other “easier” search method came with a price — adverts. For now, I’ll live with the adverts.

Meanwhile, the notion of upgrading my life continues to be stuck in a rut.

:shrug:

Older Faster

There’s no question: the older you get, the faster you get older. I noticed, however, that time slowed up about 50% while in California the first week of June. It struck me clearly the first full day there; seemed like two days’ worth of time and they were all like that. This would support the argument for moving to California, unless I don’t really want to find brakes for what seems like a waxed slide to the grave. I’m pretty sure I would like to slow it up, painful though it may be. It’s like California was a bare stretch on the slide, and I hit wax again soon as we got back to Lawrence. Since returning, there’s been no time for activities to prepare for a move. Well, there might be time if I did nothing else; maybe that’s what it’ll take. My doctors would all say this perception of accelerating time is “psychological”. As if they’re qualified to make such assessments. Seven years and they haven’t been able to make a diagnosis. Their scientific tests say, with the precision of Swiss clocks, that I’m healthy as a horse. (What’s with that, anyway? I’ve seen some downright sickly horses). Since their scientific tests aren’t telling the truth (at least not the important truth) about my health, it seems plausible to me that Swiss clocks aren’t telling the truth about time, either.