There really is no place like your home computer. Someone else's computer, no matter how slick or fast or well-equipped just isn't the same. There must be some sort of mental bond we make with our computers. We know the feel of the keyboard and can type with ease. We know where all the icons are and our eyes are used to the screen size and resolution. It's never the same with another computer.
It feels a bit like trespassing when you use someone else's computer to get something done. You come in quietly, not messing with settings or making changes in any way, because you know this isn't your place and you should be a good visitor and leave things just like you found them.
It's possible to appreciate the features of another computer such as the great resolution, lightness of the laptop, brightness of the screen and speediness of the processor; but it's just drive-by computing and doesn't feel the same as your older, slower, lower-resolution laptop that seems to know when you're at the keyboard because it sends out vibes telling you it's glad you came back to write that next blog post and check your email.
I've had to use other computers recently to make these blog posts, because darn it, I'm going to post every day unless I'm knocked out or incoherent. Speaking of, I was knocked out most of Monday with surgery and recovery. My husband brought me his laptop so I could quickly write a blog post that night. I got it done quickly because post-anesthesia I was all manner of cranky and irritable and that "not-my-PC" feeling was stronger than normal and his very nice, sleek and capable computer wasn't MY computer and I just wanted that blog post done.
I wonder if that's why writers get stuck using an old typewriter, because that's how they started and that's how they feel comfortable writing? I hope that never happens to me. I love hardware upgrades.
The Big Boy Update: I think it's time I mentioned he's not that big anymore. He is larger than his sister, but he's thin. He's no longer that little "butterball" or "fatty" as he has even been fondly called by friends and family members. However, in comparison to his younger sister, he is still big. If the day comes that she growth spurts past him, I may have to re-title these sections.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Happy eater. I may have said this before, but she is a happy eater. She's completely happy sitting in her chair with food in front of her. She can sit there for quite a spell, picking up food, putting it in her mouth, sometimes exchanging the food in her mouth for other food, re-feeding herself food that's fallen into the pouch of her bib and drinking from her sippy cup. It can be hard to know when she's done eating she's so content. Usually, you can tell because she's happily dropping (or throwing) all the remaining food to the dog.
Someone Once Said: (On the occasion of my third wedding anniversary I thought this was appropriate.) Surely marriage is an economic contract to provide for children and to take care of mothers while they bear kids and bring them up—but it is much more than that. It is the means this animal, Homo sap., has evolved—quite unconsciously—for performing this indisputable function and be happy while doing so.
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