Have you ever dropped a door? Not one of those real doors that one finds in institutional buildings or the exterior doors of houses; one of those interior doors that are a rectangular frame of 2x2s and a millimeter or so of veneer. They are so light that the air drag is enough to flip them and they semi-float to the ground with a sickening noise that is a combination of “swoosh” and “thud.”

I mention this because autumn (fall?) may have descended on Alibam. 

The whole month of September was an extension of August. This was studiously ignored by all of the politicals since it is one more indication that the melted snowflakes of the international science community are accurate and the planet is preparing to rid itself of human civilization and almost all humans as well. 

Back to hunting and gathering.

No Bronson Alpha and Beta this time folks. Just destructive weather and no food. At least until we go far below the natural carrying capacity of the abused planet. 

Another reason I am glad to be ORF. I figure a fungus will get me before I can starve. There’s something vaguely satisfying with the idea of being covered in greyish fuzz like a loaf of high end in-store bakery bread with NO preservatives. 

We have had a few days of morning temperatures in the sixties and below. And the afternoon temperatures have been in the seventies. Fahrenheit, that is. But not today. Back to the eighties. Not that I’m complaining after too many high nineties and FD SCP nattering about the bills from the Greater Metropolitan Arab Electron Monopoly. 

On which note, I should mention that when I returned home from gym yesterday she had made the transition from summer jersey to winter sweats as her at-home attire. I similarly made the shift from short-sleeve to long-sleeve. But then the blood thinners assure that I have the heat capacity of the vacuum. 

I am not complaining about the onset of lesser temperatures. Except for the extra weight of clothes. And the prickliness of bathroom heaters. “That which does not kill us makes us stronger.” But on the other hand we shall get better petrol mileage in the motorcars. No need for air conditioning.

On a related azimuth, FD SCP also picked this past week to finally decide to sack her old computer – an HP lemon from the W7 days that has more bad tracks on its HD than the Greater Metropolitan Arab Electron Monopoly has outages in a year. Seems that in addition to shedding her sewing data, the beast’s DVD drive has gone whackadoodle and is locked in constant seek mode that come with a rather Halloween appropriate shriek. 

So I went to the cache of FD SCP future computers – I buy a new one every year or so in anticipation of the explosive demise of her current one – and spent most of Thursday getting it half ready to swap out. This new box is a refurbed Lenovo that had been advertised as a W7 box – FD SCP has a hatred for WX that is Medea level – but had been upgraded to WX during the refurb.

It’s a much better box. The case doesn’t vibrate with the air from the HVAC vent like the HP does, and the UEFI is much better implemented. More righteous evidence that Carly was a daughter of one of the Greek fates – the sadistic one. 

Sadly, it does have WX as its OS. FD SCP has to use W because of the tyranny of her sewing machines and their software. I have had this box for a few months so I knew once It got it past its birth canal nastiness it would take a while to update. And I was right. Six hours. I had forgotten how slow Winders is. Definitely made me very happy. I sat about and spent most of the day tinkering with my Linux boxes. 

Linux is almost enough to make we want to be young. Almost. But it is definitely more happiness than a lot of my life.