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I have been quiet this week after a whirlwind of computer crash, replacement hard drive, and a smooth restore from backup...and then the sinking realization that I have (yes, again) lost photos. I am a bit crushed, and have had a week of vacillating between just getting on with it, or running into the street screaming "SCREW IT!", never to even look at a computer again. To make it overly simplistic my photos were all backed up to a separate hard drive and, in the million to one moment, my laptop hard drive crashed at the exact instant the backup was at the photos, writing the linkbacks to the latest images, somehow corrupting the link to all of my personal photos on the backup drive. Oh, yes, lucky me. So while we know the images are still on the backup drive and it was just the 'connection' part of the process that was interrupted when my laptop crashed, we cannot access the images. A recovery company can, and they quoted $950. So yes, what a week.
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I have been afraid to even download new images off of my camera (don't want to inadvertently write over anything) until we try a few things to see if we can retrieve the images from the backup drive on our own, so these are photos I took just last week.
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I think I would much rather putter in the garden and look at flowers at the botanical gardens than think of all of the photos of my beautiful boys that I cannot access. Don't even get me started on how as a mom I am not often able to find time to paint or write anymore, and that taking photos has become my main artistic outlet. That these images are my threads of communication spreading out into the internet like spiderwebs, making me feel connected and creative.
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There is a lesson in here somewhere, perhaps. Impermanence? Living in the present moment?(Or that getting the $air conditioning$ in the car working just in time for summer is more important than $recovering my photos$?) Geez, I get it.