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Launch Date

So here I sit in my tattered green bathrobe I adore because Sandy bought it for me one Christmas. I am gearing up to move MPOW to its new home. Today. The big day. Final testing. Final tweaking. Wurra-wurra. What can be tabled til we go live? What’s mission-critical? What about those stray tags mysteriously creeping into one page view? Can we publish the newsletter? Should I dare ask for a bit of punctuation on the main page, or would that distract the programmers?

Life is a blur of work and homework, homework and work. Not that I’m complaining. I stuck to my guns and got MPOW the home it deserved. I stuck to my guns and am giving myself the education I deserve. MPOW is improving. My writing is improving. Both have had dips and swoops and fallow times. Both will continue to improve in the days, months, years, decades ahead.

Come to think of it, I am improving. I have grey hairs and my skin seems to be sliding southward and a few things are missing, or sag, but I am moving places I like to be. It is good, this business of aging. I don’t like getting mawkish–you can call it a power surge, but I know it’s a hot flash–but there is wonder in the accumulated beauty of human development. You only get there one way: by growing older.

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