Well, now that I know we are starting over, I am going to, well, start over! We have 5 cousins here for a sleepover tonight, so we’ll have to start over tomorrow with new and interesting posts about our adorable family. For now, hang in there cousin, Linda – I can now log in and I can now post. Look for more in the near future!
I changed web hosts recently. Love the new one. But I have a major problem–a problem so big I have not told Marjorie yet:
Things are missing. Lots of things.
I backed up all the files before I did the transfer. What I apparently forgot to do was backup the database…you know, the file that actually contained all the posts? That one?
Yes. That file.
So I called my old hosting company, and after a rigamarole they determined that they could indeed restore the database and help me recover the files all for the low, low price of $150. I think not.
A few weeks ago I helped a friend recover years worth of photos that were lost when her hard drive crashed. It wasn’t too hard using some techniques I’ve picked up over the years, and she was so grateful. She learned a valuable lesson in making backups, too.
It’s a lesson I haven’t hard to learn the hard way. Ever since we went to digital images, I’ve been obsessed with making backups myself, even to the extent of making multiple backups to other hard drives, to a second computer and online. Yes, three separate backups.
So, please tell me, why in the name of all that is holy and good did I not backup my stupid family blog??!!!
Whew. Good to get that out of my system.
Perhaps it is a good time now to meditate on the transience of life, and how all things fade away and how one day all this will disappear in a blaze of fire on the last day. Perhaps we should consider that we are dust, and to dust we shall return. Think for a moment upon the lives of our ancestors, lost to the pages of history, or to nothing at all, not even their memories holding on, leaving behind no images, no records, no stories, no artifacts, all of it disappearing into the maw of death and the womb of the earth. Momento mori, and all that jazz.
So, Marjorie, as you read this and discover what I have done, I want you to remember that we still have our children, each in one piece. We still have our family photos, our family albums and memories. We still have our home.
But the blog…well, that’s toast. But we can start over, can’t we?
Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!