April 18, 2003

The Silo

This laptop has a much bigger screen than my previous Dell. It’s so pretty and easy to see everything. The only thing that seems weird so far is the keyboard—I may stop back by the store and have them check it. They warranty everything for the first three months, and then Dell picks up the warranty for the next three months. By then I should have given this puppy a major workout!

I can’t believe how big the screen is. Wow!

Hello? You guys must all be able to fit inside this display.

Now I’ll be moving files over again—if I’m slow with posting it’s just that I’m going to have to spend some time getting a bunch of files over to this computer.

Question to you—my work computer had virus protection from work. What do those in the know (that would be you) use or recommend for virus protection? RB says go Norton. Like an idiot I had ordered Macafee before he said that. I think it was causing some problems on the other machine. I don’t want a virus program that is hypervigilant. I don’t want it hogging up memory (I got 128 for now, and will need it). So what are some good options, and does anyone use Macafee who’s happy with it?

This is fun, relaxing. My eyes are closed. I haven’t closed my eyes and typed in a long time. Ahhh. Eyes closed, headed for open space, empty, blue and yellow, purple circles and fonts with no names. This is what it’s about for me. Blogging straight, no chaser. Sink down and let it come, in spasms at first, then in waves, smooth, carrying me.

I go back to the woods beside the barn when I get to this place. The woods where I looked up at the rainy sky in wonder and caught an inch worm in my mouth as it hung agape tilted skyward. Those woods. I don’t know why. I can smell them. I can smell my own four-year-old coat, the blue one with grey trim. A mixture of Johnson & Johnson shampoo from my hair and wet pine.

In those woods, I can look back at the silo. For me, like the Jamaican sea, the thing I can’t seem to get back to. I never went inside that silo. Never got to see it inside out, though I used to think about it a lot. It was a point of great mystery to me. Why was it there? What was it supposed to do? And why wasn’t I allowed to go in it? I can still see that giant white bullet jutting skyward past the barn. One year a storm took the top off. From then on, I guess that silo was just like me, open skyward, in wonder and awe, waiting for something to fall in.

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