I bought like 20 back issues of Mother Earth News a couple months back. I keep them in the bathroom if you must know. Anyway, I was reading a letter to the editor and this old dude from Texas was all pissed off and uppity because Mother Earth shares apps and ipad widgety-widgets and high-tech shizz and he was like, "Us country folk don't want anything to do with your new-fangled shit and how dare you infer that your readers want to have the Internet AND grow their own dang lettuce!". I felt really bad for him and his wife and children.
I've been trying to visit with my Papaw and Uncle Jimmy on Sunday afternoons. I didn't make it this week, but a couple of weeks ago I was over there and Papaw was fascinated and dazzled by my iphone. Mostly the camera part of it. I took pictures of each of them and then showed him. And then I showed him an old picture of he and my mamaw and my daddy and Jimmy from like 1942 that I'd downloaded onto the phone. He thought it was plum spectacular. We conversed about the state of the world for a while. The cost of milk and what not and I told him when I get to be 93, I hope I'm living in a cabin by a creek, growing taters and beans. And he said, "There you go!". I am a very lucky girl.
John and I house-hunted this weekend. We put a bid on a house. It may or may not be accepted. Every time I think about it I feel light-headed and giddy and terrified. I'm trying not to like the house as much as I do. Because I really, really do. And I really, really want my own house. But if it ain't meant to be then I reckon I'll get over it.
On a different note. I am totally in love with Brandi Carlile and her brothers. I listen to Hard Way Home and Bend Before It Breaks every single day on grooveshark. Then I even it out with Pixies and the Violent Femmes.