Archive for March, 2008

Three Children

Audra

 

Windswept

 

Theodore

Tuesday’s Three

Spring

Tortilla Eating on Orange

Rusting

Sold on Jungle Disk

Admittedly, it was an easy sell since I’ve been using Amazon’s S3 service on the job for the last 8 months for storing db backups so I’m familiar with the pros, cons, and costs and I had looked at Jungle Disk as a possible solution but disregarded it since it did not support Linux. Mike posted his thoughts about it and pointed out that they are giving some love to The Penguin.

After a quick spin on the free trial client I went ahead and signed up for the Plus service which allows you to browse your files online. Yes, you could use the S3 Firefox plugin but given the way that Jungle Disk writes folders as files it makes for some ugly viewing and the same goes for the S3Sync tools. Anyways, I look at the $12/year as a donation to keep the company afloat and developing.

To give people an idea of the cost I’m going to start with backing up my photos (33GB) and the last three years of eMusic (50GB) which the first transfer cost will be about $30 dollars and after that will cost about $12.50 a month.  This data grows at about 2GB a month which will tack on less than a dollar extra a month.  Not too bad of a proposition though I do see the potential for climbing up to around $35/month though the cost is worth the piece of mind it brings.

Lesson Learned: Leftover chicken wings are leftover for a reason.

Just thought I’d share that nugget of wisdom after my 36 hour bout with food poisoning.  It also serves as a handy reminder why I went vegetarian years ago and why I might go back to being a small *v* vegetarian again.  Chicken Wing Redux makes for a very poor sequel; I’d much rather watch Star Wars Episodes 1-3.

Three years?

Do I get an Anniversary Pen? Wait that’s for five…Maybe I can make another two at this blog to get it.

Glimpses

Glimpse into the Future

With the click of the shutter I was no longer looking at my baby, the one who toddles about the house singing to herself, the little girl who calls my mother Mam-Mam. Rather time slipped forward, lurching heavy and fast, and she was some sixteen years older and about to step out of the house and into those first tentative moments of adulthood. Sadness and joy wrapped about me and I was unsure if I should laugh or cry. I do not want a moment of our life together to go unaccounted.





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Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 United States