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For the most part, lately I tend to find myself in an often-tired state. Part of this, I reckon is simply how life is right now. Between work and home, I’m usually kept busy at both ends. I’m used to it being a busy season by now. Another part, I think is that spring just doesn’t tend to be a great time of year for me in practice. Most years, actually I’ve been kind of glad this time of year leans towards busy much stronger than idle.

Recently, I marked 6 years since ma passed away. Events like that seem to make up the lion share of events on my calendar for the early parts of the year, that don’t involve meetings and appointments. It kind of bugs me that that trend has only grown since I was a kid. In many cases, it’s the death of someone I care about or the birthday of someone I care about whose no longer alive. That sums up the key highlights of my personal calendar for early months of the year. But I also guess that comes with getting older.

My grandfather used to say, “Adapt!” My mother was fond of pointing out that most of the things her dad said were utter non-sense, but she also had a talent for re-iterating the ones that were wise. For me, adaption has usually equated to get things done whatever needs doing.

In the course of my life, I’ve learned that I probably adapt a bit quicker than most folks I know. For things that I can file under doing, that’s kind of easier. It’s a more mechanical type of processing that leaves you something to focus on, whether or not it pisses you off in the process. It’s the things that aren’t as focused that I find harder.

For life in general, well, I’m pretty sure if I pointed out the times that my family had to adapt growing up, my momma would have both slapped me in the head for implying that she hated change that strongly and have listened to my two cents that she did well at making the most of it. That’s just how life is. You adapt or you stagnate.

Over the past few years, I’ve felt that my life has been headed towards a different chapter.

Oddly, this reminds me I’ve got about 30 more years until my age hits the next power of two…. 🤣

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Passing thought: if personal cybernetics or portable nuclear power cells are ever a thing, I so need an integrated espresso machine.

For some reason this makes me remember Killing Floor’s Fleshpound. A type of zombie that effectively turns into a meat grinding berserker when the squad’s gunfire causes its chemical injectors to respond to its rage.

You know, having an espresso machine built into you would probably be a case of be careful what you wish for.

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Great plan: saving leftover chili, macraroni, that could be smothered in cheese and tossed in the oven.

Bad plan: eating the entire pan for chilimac. Then polishing off a bunch of cheesecake.

Or was that a perfect plan….

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Sometimes random things make you frown.

  1. Paper weight falls off the tea bag.
  2. String falls in the cup.
  3. Can’t reach the teabag or the string.
  4. Flip over cup and it still won’t come out.
  5. Tie the string to the handle and it flies off when adding water.

When they all in a neat streak of events: I call this an incremental frown.

On the upside sitting down with a spot of tea and not going ass over tea kettle in the process 😅

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Think I understand how the Tin Man felt about needing that oil can. I managed to sleep sounder and stiller than many a log and passed out snoring quite early. By the time I started to work up there was the distinct feeling of having not moved in many hours.

Willow of course is the smart one. Every morning I get up at a certain time because Misty has her medicines on a schedule. Willow debated getting up and decided if her pillow was moving, she was still going back to sleep, lol.

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Things I should never forget: that Windows and USB always makes Linux and USB look like heaven.

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A big bet to kill the password for good

Rather interesting, but I think the real question is when will existing systems catch up.
For the most part the only real problem I’ve experienced with 2-factor authentication is exactly the one that they outlined. In fact, it was a key reason why I stopped using Google’s authenticator in favor of physical keys around Lollipop.
The notion of storing keys in a synced keychain also intrigues me. My password manager of choice is synchronized between devices, and I generally don’t worry about it because.
  1. Database is locally encrypted with a pass phrase. I’m not getting those back if I forget how to unlock the password manager.
  2. Local storage is typically an encrypted file system, and typically on a system where applications aren’t allowed to access each other’s files without permission.
  3. Synchronization is to remote storage that should be encrypted at rest and transferred over the wire at least as secure as HTTPS/TLS.
  4. Accessing that account requires 2-factor authentication, or an emergency code that is difficult to obtain over network.
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Given how consistently my knee has been getting stiff and achey, part of me wonders it I’m getting like my mother was with the rainy weathers or if I’m just starting to get old and fat.

Well, to be fair: I’m not getting thinner with age😅

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Japanese internment camps: How a long-lost kimono unearthed a family secret https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-60408913 

I think that it would be rather a shame to have such a beautiful piece of your heritage locked away. But given what was done to their generation, I can’t say that I blame their grandparents for being so disinclined to talk about it.

Growing up, I was always rather glad that my mother would share what it was like in her family. Being Italian Americans, my grandparents didn’t have it quite so hard. My grandmother worked in a factory and my grandfather served in the Navy. To my understanding, he didn’t like discussing the war but I believe that had more to do with his experiences in the pacific. By their generation, English had already become the dominate language in the family, and I imagine that no one really cared that much about the Italians.

By contrast many folks of Japanese decent were not so fortunate. And to top it off, there were many nisei who still chose to fight and join the war effort despite what was being done to their families at home.

My mother’s generation was the last that truly spoke any of the Italian dialect of the old folks because that was the only way to communicate with her grandmother. The Italian influences were very much apart of her upbringing, significantly more than my brother and I. And there was never any reason for anyone to mind or fear that. I think that we were very lucky for that.

The thought of people missing out on that kind of thing, kind of bugs me. Given what Japanese Americans went through in those days, I can’t say that I am surprised. Not only is it wrong what was done to that generation, but to help break up being able to share their heritage with their children and grandchildren that is even more wrong.

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Things that make dogs angry: the smell of chicken cooking.

Things that make dogs happy: the taste of fresh chicken.

Trick is somewhere in between, not getting Rube Goldberged off a cliff like a cartoon character while the dogs abscond with the whole supply of chicken.