So I’m still only 1 panel into the next GOMH, and I was running late, and my head hurts, and I have a thousand more excuses where this one came from. Result: you get a sketch of my garden, colored and photoshopped.
I’m so going to play Internet Argument-Losing Bingo.
So Apple opened up a beta today where you can run Windows on your Intel Mac. Meh. It might make things easier if I actually was tied to a PC for anything I do, but outside of gaming I have no need for a PC, and generally I console game.
Anyway, Boot Camp still looks pretty cool, and if it gets more folks to buy Mac hardware, hey, my portfolio won’t mind.
Best line of the whole page:
Macs use an ultra-modern industry standard technology called EFI to handle booting. Sadly, Windows XP, and even the upcoming Vista, are stuck in the 1980s with old-fashioned BIOS. But with Boot Camp, the Mac can operate smoothly in both centuries.
Heh. Snarky.
Here’s a picture from 10:37 this morning:
Yes, that’s a raging blizzard.
Here’s a picture from now (11:23):
Freakin’ hell. Make up its damned mind.
Welcome to Spring in Pennsylvania.
I did something very odd recently – I tried drawing using paper and a pen. Very odd. No “undo” command. Command-z just didn’t function on paper. Anyway, it’s spring, I’m feeling spring-y, thought I’d provide some spring art while I get the next strip together.
It’s April, and we’re having one hell of a thunderstorm outside. Odd.
Even odder is the deja vu. I’m sitting on the sofa knitting a blanket as a gift for some friends. (The blanket, by the way, is responsible for the lack of comic tomorrow. I’m trying to finish the blanket before they finish the baby.)
I don’t have a visual memory stored of my grandmother knitting, but we lived with her until I was 11, so I’m sure I saw her do so at some point. She’s the reason I wanted to learn to knit. Somehow I feel closer to her when I’m working with my hands. And she was an avid storm watcher, sitting on the porch watching the lightening and listening to the thunder.
So I’m sitting on the sofa watching the storm through our sliding doors, knitting, and thinking of her. I feel like I’ve been here before – or maybe it’s just that I feel like I’ve come home.