Sophie's Story

   I spent some time with a couple of friends yesterday afternoon. We sat out on a deck enjoying the nice weather, good conversation and each other's company. We ranged over a lot of different topics. One of them was on being "normal". As usual I recited my favourite quote on the subject, "We do not know what is normal, we only know what is customary." We spent a few minutes on the topic and then moved on. The thought stayed in the back of my head. I pondered it as I drove home. (C isn't the only one who ponders.)   Normal "adj. 1 Conforming, adhering to, or constituting a usual or typical standard, pattern, level or type" (American Heritage Dictionary Second College Edition) In other words, customary.    When I was a teenager I did not consider myself "normal". I didn't do what the other kids my age did. I wasn't dating. I wasn't staying out late, unless I was working. I wasn't getting drunk. My closest friends were b

   The new computer we ordered arrived a little sooner we thought it would. We had not expected to get it this soon as we were having it custom built. I played around with it once we had set it up and noticed two things about it. It is much easier to use  and much faster than the old one. New technology is like that that. Faster and mostly easier.    Is it possible for things to be too fast or too easy? It is something I've been wondering about. Last week after Toastmasters, I had an interesting discussion with a few friends. I had mentioned that people will text or email the most hurtful things to another person. Things they would never say to the person's face or on the telephone. My theory is that text and email allows us to react before we have a chance to think things through. The first thought that goes through your mind is the one that gets sent out. Since you are doing this all electronically, you can also block out the consequences of what you have said. You don

   A week or so ago my faithful old desktop computer decided to give up for good. A trip to a computer repair shop was unable to find out what was wrong, so we had to leave it so they could do a more thorough look. I was not worried. We had C's laptop computer so I would be able to continue to write without any interuption. Right?    Wrong! C's laptop runs on a odd operatting system that is no longer supported. I didn't know what to do. I have a commitment to write and publish once a week. The only other choice I had was to do what I did when I first started writing. I would write on a word processing program and then mail it to those people who want to get it. It was all right, but there are a couple of people who can't access it when I do it that way.    I finally figured out a way to do it. I was suprised. I'm not that good at figuring out things when it comes to computers.    So far it seems to be working. I'll be really glad when the new replacement de

   I finally got around to transplanting the forget-me-nots into a larger pot. They were looking a little cramped in the small blue pot I put them in. I hoped that more space would make them happy.   The fact that I have them is something of an accident. Every year the church gives little gifts to all the women over 18 on Mother's Day. I feel very self conscious about accepting the gift. I'm not a mother, I'm a step mother and there is a big difference between the two. Mother's Day is a day to celebrate those women who have children either by birth or adoption. Stepmother's Day is for those of us who acquired our families through marriage. To me accepting the Mother's Day gift at church is disrespectful to those who are actually mothers.    This year I stayed in the chapel after the service and talked to someone and missed the people that were handing out the gifts. The gift this year was a small pot with forget-me-not seeds in them. Along with the pot was a