"The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." - Mark Twain
I've been... otherwise occupied... for some time and have neglected my forumnal duties somewhat (like I haven't logged in for months - Boo lazy Dav!), but I'm alive and well.
All I got from that tsunami volunteering stuff was a barrage of dinner-time phone-requests for money. I donated plenty of damned money and was much more interested in assisting in a practical way, but it pissed me off (to put it mildly) - I have the feeling that many "charities" are, if they still exist at all, rapidly becoming overwhelmed and side-lined by their own money-making mechanisms.
Anyway, enough of my whining. As KO said, I'm putting the finishing touches on a little snow-trudging adventure (I wouldn't call it "climbing", exactly. More like
"bumbling alone blindly for many miles in a week-long sub-zero whiteout moonscape while gnawing frozen kangaroo jerky, gibbering to myself, chipping crusts of ice-urine from my rucksack and humming Barry White music incessantly").
So, what have I been doing with myself? Hmmm - I've been working, and when I've not been working I have been sleeping, reading or camping with my friends and family.
I wanted to get away from a lot of noise and distracting stuff and the Computer and TeeVee were the prime offenders, so they are now only used for really necessary stuff. It's amazing how much time you can find if you don't stare at a fluorescing glass box all day.
It's winter here and there's snow on the mountains. I've started building a sixteen foot canoe, using only traditional hand tools (except the chopping down the tree and milling the lumber - I hate splinters...). I'm enjoying the hillbilly lifestyle. Heck, I might even buy me a banjo.
Sorry I missed your e-mails TN. Every so often, I look at the computer and think of all its wonders, and I think about climbing back inside it and talking with all the wonderful people who live there (you all ranking high among them), but then it starts to look like this huge, static-buzzing, dead eye, staring back at me.
So, I go and poke a soccer ball around with my son instead (he's getting good - for a six year old - but I can still kick has bony ass!), read under a window in the winter sunshine, or block-plane a fair strake or two while humming a Barry White tune, incessantly.
Peace, all...

Davdoodles
XXX