Why No Mo?

From February until a little more than a month ago, I was living on the contents of a U-Haul trailer. I'd found a house, and filled it with a chair, a bed, a drafting table, a computer, a skillet, and a ton of books. And some rocks and pieces of wood that have gained talismanic power over the years of wandering. No thermous.

You know, the essentials.

So I dwelt in one room, slept in another. Navigated the empty spaces in between. Compared to the cubicle labyrinth and rainforests where I spent my working days, the inside of this house was a prairie, open and unimpeded. Tiny bison roaming the carpet.

On the penultimate day of this existence, just before a big truck would deliver a household full of furniture and gear, I miscalculated one of the trans-carpet navigations. Stepped on one tiny spot where the computer lay. ("Why'd you put the computer on the floor, you frickin' idiot?!" you ask. Well, I was living the shelfless life. Spartan, sparse, spare, and smug.)

So it turns out that even a split second of large biped weight on a computer's hard drive messes it up. Badly.

Lost and not fixable, at least not without spending more money than a new computer.

And so lost, most of what I wrote over the past few months (and believe me, it was all pretty much brilliant). Thousands of photos. Tax spreadsheet. Other stuff I cannot even think of. And the means to easily post to the blog.

Many cool travles of late, and I'll try to post photos and tales soon.