Setback

Last night the new computer went into cardiac arrest, an endless loop of rebooting. Windows would only start in safe mode, and still reboot when I tried to do anything. This is the same problem Bruce had before, and had thought to fix by rebuilding it. It worked like a charm for 24 hours, then zzzt!

So I'm back on my old machine. Now that I've spent an evening playing on a better one with my own files and software, I cannot justify the long hours and evenings previously spent sitting here waiting for 64 M of RAM to process dozens of 4 G images. It's fine for word processing of course. Maybe I need to spend the winter concentrating on that.

I haven't been hit by the same sense of creeping dread as early last week, but neither am I particularly hopeful. This weekend when he comes, Danny will take a look and tinker with the other computer to see if he can figure what's needed to repair it.

I am reminded of this remarkable bee-like beetle that visited us Thanksgiving Sunday. We had been enjoying hors d'ouevres on the deck when it landed and started munching on the last wedge of naan. We left it. All afternoon, while Mom, Dad, Brenna and I played euchre there in attenuated sunlight, the beetle gorged itself, preparing for hibernation perhaps. Once we looked over to see the bare piece of bread lying there, trembling and heaving. The creature had crawled underneath and was pushing it across the table with all its tiny might. Eventually the insect finished—or gave up whatever it was trying to do—and disappeared, leaving the chewed slice and a pile of crumbs.

I don't know what I'm doing half the time, but like the beetle I keep going until it's time to sleep.

Turns out this is Nicrophorus tomentosus, a species of carrion beetle or burying beetle. In flight it resembles a bumblebee. Apparently this individual was confused over its food. Adults in this genus look for a mouse carcass, bury it, battle over it, mate, lay eggs, defend it communally against ants and fly maggots, wait for their grubs to hatch, then feed them pieces of rotting flesh.

Maybe my own endeavours—to raise ideas to maturity—are more purposeful than they look or feel. I must just make sure I'm working on a dead mouse and not a piece of naan.

Guelph photographers

I've been nosing around the edges of a network of Guelph photographers. This started thanks to an active Guelph group on Flickr, in which I was an early contributor and have become an administrator. It was started by Denim. Then Sue Richards emerged with Blog Guelph, commenting on local photographers and bloggers. So far she is the only one I have met, and that happened by chance.

Someone else started holding Guelph Flickr meets. I missed the first one, but hope to drop in next Wednesday to meet some of the local camera geeks for a few minutes before chorus rehearsal. Funny how this happens when I'm talking out of one corner of my mouth about taking a break from photography (or, more accurately, blogging about it with one baby finger).