Health update on a Mac

The blog's gone a bit quiet recently, I know. Partly it's been my need to keep up with my father's Letters from the Past - there have been quite a few recently, and I'm trying to keep them to the dates on which they were written 66 years ago. Soon he will go on leave to attend my birth, and the strange journey will be over. There are no letters kept from the time after that - I suspect my mother my have had her hands full in the months till my father's demobilisation, and the wonderfully evocative letters which the ones I have hint at perhaps dried up - or were replaced by phone calls. I don't know, but I shall miss them.

But another reason for my unblogging is the fact that my desktop iMac has ... well, died. It's been staggering a bit for some weeks now, but I was managing to cajole it along with frequent emptying of the cache and so on. Yesterday, however, it turned up its toes and wouldn't let me past the sign-in stage. It's going to the doctor in the Apple Store this week - just in time before my Apple Care runs out - and I shall be able to report on the experience.

Meanwhile I am relying on the laptop I bought (a PowerBook G4) when I retired six years ago. This blog began on the laptop, and I used to feel totally at home on it. Now, however, the screen feels small and dim and the angle on my desk is all wrong (though it is crammed in front of the iMac) and I keep reaching for a mouse. The fan keeps whirring alarmingly, and as I type I'm aware that what is on the screen isn't keeping up with my flying fingers. The various apps tend to be out of date and there are too many things I can't use. Worst of all, I had promised myself that this would be the week I would do my tax return. Last year's stuff is all ... on the sick machine. I can't bear to start on this one. I shall procrastinate further.

And before you ask: yes, it's all backed up.

The shock of the new

A second trip in one week to the Apple Store in Glasgow saw me and Mr B staggering to our car with my shiny new iMac in its box after its memory upgrade. It is currently sitting in the hall, challenging me to get it out and do something sensible with it. But I can't face it tonight. Deeds of such magnitude need to be undertaken in the light of day, when one is in full command - not in the last remnants of post-prandial stupor and the onset of must-get-to-beditis.

And although I am looking forward enormously to the newness and the speed of it, I can't help feeling the usual trepidation. Will it go? Will it find and love the Airport? How will I feel about a full-sized desktop machine with a 20" screen after four years of a laptop? (Notwithstanding the urgings of my physio friend about the postural hell of laptop use...) And what about all the things like Firefox that I've downloaded over the years - will the new one really speak to the old one and transfer stuff? Like Data in Star Trek?

Enough already. I shall sleep on it and dream troubled dreams of change.

Bereft

It's amazing how disconcerting it can be when your computer becomes sick. My laptop (a 4 year old G4 laptop) suddenly started to flash up little messages telling me that my startup disc was full, that I should delete files to free it up. I deleted some old stuff, tidied up a bit - no good. It was still groaning quietly, occasionally huffing and puffing, performing tasks at a glacial rate - a real oldie with a severe case of memory loss. And now it's in Intensive Care, being operated on by my good friend Mr Heathbank, having its marbles removed entirely and replaced - I think that's the plan - using my backup drive and the results of Time Machine. Sounds too clever to be true, but I'm hoping.

Meanwhile, Mr B is letting me use his machine, a big beast which sighs dramatically, purrs powerfully, and zips about at great speed. The keyboard makes the clunking sound I found so enticing in the movie "Wargames" - when the teenage geek hacked into the Pentagon war simulator: remember? I can't type on it with anything like my usual speed or accuracy, and I keep feeling for the non-existent track-pad. I've lost all my former mouse-dexterity - it has, after all, been four years - and I can't get used to looking up at the screen instead of down, though I know this is better for posture.

I'm contemplating buying a desktop to supplement (and I hope it is that rather than replace) the laptop, but there are so many drawbacks I'm beginning to wonder. Feel free to comment! And in the meantime, I need to sort out the conflicting calls on the mail front or Mr B will repent of his kind offer ...

Civilisation

I mustn't go on about Second Life, but feel I owe this post to the person I met the other evening - actually it was midnight - on the Learn4Life island. Previously I've wandered alone through the location's meeting rooms and cafe, but on this occasion this male figure was standing, clutching a torch, on the beach. I think it was a beach. Anyway, with a bit of help and some of the civilised discourse I would expect from a Scottish educator, I was able to teleport to Paris, circa 1900, and join him in a goblet of Absinth in a bar. Later, after he'd left and I was considering whether to log off and go to bed or to have a look for the Eiffel Tower, I was approached by a second man - well, it was a male avatar - and invited to sit and chat. More absinth. By this time in real life I'd be on the floor, but no, there I was perched decorously on a bar stool and conversing in three languages. (All in text - I haven't progressed to sound yet) We were joined by a third man who told me about the free parachute jumps from the Eiffel Tower. It was all very civilised and written in proper English rather than text-speak, so I felt quite at home - see last post for the contrast.

But I have a question for any Mac-using Second Lifers: I have problems already with sitting on seats - the ctrl/click produces the suitable gesture on the part of my avatar, but as often as not that's as far as it goes. And when I found the lift to the Eiffel Tower no amount of clicking on it would have any effect - though I know I was in the right place because I saw two Spanish-speaking chaps do the same and vanish skywards. Help needed, please - I'll get bored if I can't influence my environment.

To say nothing of the effects of too much absinth.