April 10, 2008
1979: Annus Mirabilis
That does it. This is it. 1979 marked some kind of something, the likes of which we may never again witness.

Published in 1979: India’s brilliant How to Care for a Guinea Pig.
comments
14 Responses to “1979: Annus Mirabilis”
Leave a Reply
okay, that settles it. we should definitely set up a 1979 category.
I’d like to take this opportunity to mention, since you’re unlikely to visit my mom’s house and use both of her computers any time soon, that I’ve named their hard drives Butterball (the plodding four- or five-year old iMac) and Fireball (the snappy 2007 20″). These were the names of our first two guinea pigs.
And I found guinea pig icons to represent each drive, too.
And I colored them different colors, to match the actual pigs.
I don’t want to hijack anything, but India’s comment seems to raise a good possible Dear Clusterflock topic: What are your computers/hard drives/networks named?
hijack away.
Heh. Ask and ye shall receive.
[...] Nathan asks, What are your computers/hard drives/networks named? [...]
Guinea pigs now strike me as utterly enchanting thanks to you, India. Tell me: is a guinea pig a good addition to a household where a cat lives?
As for 1979, maybe someone should appoint a committee charged with collecting and preserving documentation of the wonders of that year.
After all, that How to Care for a Guinea Pig survived at all was — “no thanks to Nicky Levine“.
Hooray for the Guinea Pig book! I still love finding out what Guinea Pigs like to eat.
From the cat’s perspective, the guinea pig’s, or the humans’?
I think I know the answer to my own question. Yesterday I left the house while the cat was still out, so I cracked a sliding door open just a fraction so she could come inside and get something to eat. Not to worry. Came back home to find the head of a wood rat on the living room floor.
There you go.
My Hard Drive is called Mac Lappy, the Mac version of Strong Bad’s Lappy.
Oh I love this little book. I once found a kid’s diary/scrapbook in a junkshop and cried for days reading it. Such care taken on setting things up in a hand enfeebled by recent presence in the world–and, already, the sure sign of old knowledge.
Daryl, the deep places you strike.