That's my sentiment at the moment, having just reinstalled the blogging software after more than a week in the deeper depths of upgrade-to-a-larger-hard-disk-hell. Reinstalling, and then posting an "I'm back" message resulted in the disappearance of every single trace of the old HinesSight postings--which, in retrospect, was entirely predictable, since the newly installed software had me starting from scratch. The message, my friends, is to faithfully backup your precious whatever. This is relatively easy to do with computer whatevers; I just had to copy a folder from a backup drive to the new drive. Its a bigger problem with more personal whatevers. How do we handle the unexpected loss of something that previously was precious to us?
If this restoration hadn't worked, I was prepared to write the first post to a newborn HinesSight along the lines of, "Everything changes, including this weblog. It's all gone, and I'm starting over." But those loftily detached words wouldn't have matched how I really felt, which would have more along the lines of, "God damn it! This f-----g computer just lost all of the posts that I spent many hours writing, including the photo of our dog. That sucks, big time!" Someday I hope I get to the point that no matter what I lose, I truly feel that if it can be lost, it isn't real, and not worth losing a tear over. That day isn't now, though. I'm happy to be back HinesSighting, with a 60gb hard drive whose grand size matches my verbosity.