My grandmother sent my parents' wedding album. I'm creating a digital copy. In this case, that means taking pictures of the pictures on my tablet, connecting my tablet and transferring them to the comp, fixing the tone, tagging and labeling, and then uploading certain ones to the social media.
It also means crafting an update and a biography combined into an email short enough for people to read and once again sending it out, 5 people at a time so that it doesn't clog. No stress; the family's financial security is only on the line. 'Just tell them what they want to hear,' is basically what my Dad says. Never mind that not even he knows what that it. Heaven help us, I don't think even 'they' know what 'they' want to know.
I probably should share some sort of celebratory blog on the family's official site, but I have no clue how I'd reduce 33 years of marriage into something like that. Therefore, I'm grateful that neither of my parents have thought of assigning me that task specifically.
And, worse yet, I still keep wandering off to goof off, often playing Solitaire or Sudoku. At least at this time of night I'm less likely to start on a new book; thank the Lord for small miracles.
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