We are on a weekend project binge around here; two weekends ago, it was mulch and dirt and cleaning up our landscaping. This weekend, we tackled the kitchen, fixing the crack in the ceiling (that one was all Knute) and then finally, three years and several weeks after moving into this house, painting the kitchen a bright, clean, and happy buttercream.
Normally, my laptop sits on the kitchen counter, almost always open, almost always on. But just before the big messy parts of our kitchen project began on Thursday, I packed it away in my carrying bag and tucked it under the antique table in the front room.
And there it sat for four days, quiet and hidden, totally closed, totally off.
I didn't go completely offline this weekend; we are tech geeky around here after all. I had my iPhone and access to our other computers...well occasional access when the kids weren't working on their plans for total WebkinzWorld domination.
But I was too busy with the work at hand, busy crawling and cutting (my job; Knute with his long arms wields the roller), then busy with touchup work, and finally with the simple work of cleaning up. Online life dimmed and faded replaced by the here and now.
This morning, I ran my usual Monday errands and headed home to stow the groceries and begin the long march up Mt. Laundry (I will conquer and civilize that towering pile one day). After sorting and soaking and spinning the first load of whites, I walked to the front room where my computer sat packed away like an old toy.
And I wouldn't be telling you the whole truth if I didn't tell you that I paused for a few long seconds, contemplating whether I really wanted to invite my sleek, red, and connected-to-the-world Vaio back to her normal perch on my kitchen counter.