It's Halloween, and scary things are afoot.
First, my electronics are spooking me. My beloved Powershot camera, the one I haul with me everywhere, up and died, had to be replaced. It started not flashing, then not focusing. When I took it to the camera shop, after investing in a pile of new batteries, I learned it would be cheaper to replace it than fix it. Ain't that the way things go these days?
Also, my little Panasonic TV in my studio works OK, but has a built in VCR, and no way to play DVDs, so I invested in a new little flat screen number. The old TV took up lots of precious real estate in my tiny room, needed a cable box, and will soon be obsolete with regard to its ability to tape programs I don't want to miss, so replacing it should be a step up. I just anxious about replacing a television that still works. I guess I'll store it in the attic and then see if anyone wants a spare.
Then last night my Mac, which has never giving me a moment of difficulty decided to just shut down. Poof! Like magic. Not once, but several times. I got on my husband's machine (I insist on backups around here) and tried a couple maneuvers on mine that finally got it going again, but I had sweaty-palmed visions of losing data, and having to take the computer in to the emergency room. Today all is well - for now.
My own body is scary too. We went for a walk yesterday in Janesville's Riverside Park. Hadn't been there since the summer flooding, but the day was so sunny and warm we had to get outside. Volunteers in the park have refurbished a section of the Ice Age Trail called The Devil's Staircase, a steep and beautiful trail that hugs limestone outcroppings along the Rock River. Oh boy, it wasn't the usual walk in the park. There are steep old limestone steps, and with my bifocals I had a devil of a time seeing where I was stepping, and on that trail a misstep could lead to a tumble and a swim. It was fine, I just took off my glasses. Then there are my knees, that didn't like either the steps or the uneven terrain. Again, it was fine. But I'm not liking having taking a walk require a dose of painkiller afterward. The not-so-scary part was the chance to get out with my husband; in fact that was very nice indeed.
As long as I'm admitting my fears about aging, I'll admit that I am tired of the time and expense involved in coloring my hair. Even though my Grandma Tess didn't stop until she considered herself "old" at eighty, I am trying to come to terms with my current mature self. So I have a half inch streak of silver at my roots, and when I look at myself in the morning mirror it is frightening. Not exactly the Wicked Witch from Snow White, but not the face I am used to. Happy Halloween.