Woke this morning to light rain, wind and cold. It was blustery all morning, so I waited till 1:00 to go on the bike ride. By then the sun was out, but there was still a strong wind. When I ride uphill at the park, the north wind hits me directly, and it is really rough! However, I managed to ride the entire distance, and then did some outside chores when I got back.

I slept till 8:30, mainly because I stayed up too late. I like to watch TV late at night in bed; it relaxes me, and sometimes (if boring enough) puts me to sleep. I used to read before sleep, but my eyes have gotten so weak that after a day of looking at a computer screen, and then reading at night while DH watches TV, I just can't endure the eyestrain. So I watch TV.

Last night I saw the Discovery Channel special, "Before We Ruled The Earth." Way too many wild, prehistoric beasts chasing half-monkey/half-humans...violent, scary. I DO believe that is how it was during that time of pre-history, because the special was based entirely on scientific information.

On the other hand, you have to wonder exactly WHAT is the meaning of human existence, if not to improve life for ourselves. I believe that's about it: We want to have better, better and better, easier lives...at least physically and emotionally more comfortable. And this drive has not lessened in all of human history; hence, we are almost at the apex of technological and biological evolution. If you know anything about nanotechnology and computers, you may realize that humans are trying very hard to overcome the limits of our biology...and in some sense, already have made progress.

If you don't believe this, tell me how many people would refuse a heart pace-maker if they would die otherwise. I envision a future in which humans slowly integrate with nano and computers/electronics, then evolve BEYOND our physical biology...and then humans will become extinct. I see NOTHING wrong with this, and just because some people might not like it, or think humans shouldn't go extinct, doesn't mean it won't happen. Think it can be stopped? Re-read the question about needing a pace-maker, and you'll understand EXACTLY how it will happen. End of lecture.

Now to today's journal prompt:

What's the first thing you remember? Or rather, what is the oldest memory you have? A holiday party when you were four? A lost pet when you were three? (Can you remember back even further — to when you were seventeen months old, perhaps?) What can you recollect? Sights, sounds, and smells? Just colors, faces, or voices?

I was born in December, 1951. Here is the imagery that lingers from my earliest years -- the first four happy years, the years before turmoil tainted everything.

My mother and father lived with my paternal grandparents at their rural farm, a big old farmhouse I remember fondly.

A quilt pallet in front of a screen door, cool night wind whispering over me as I lie there looking out at a bright summer moon.

A quilt pallet under a shade tree in the sweltering heat of mid-morning, sitting and playing alone while my mother and grandmother work in the field of cotton.

Playing on the dirt-floor porch, hearing the hiss of doddle bugs circling in the dirt, heat so intense it scorched your skin if you ventured out at noon. A bucket let down into the deep cool darkness of the well, the glug as it hit water, then the clank as it was pulled up for us to drink tin dipper-fulls of sweet, clear well water.

My dog, Nikki, a large black German shepard that followed me everywhere. Sneaking off into the nearby woods, finding the creek...stopping at the mossy bank, with Nikki yipping and yapping until his excited barks brought my mother and grandmother to our side, scolding and spanking me for venturing away from the house.

My daddy insisting I should sleep in the bedroom with him and mother, when I begged to sleep with my grandmother. [I was already devoted to my grandmother, because often my youthful parents left me in her and my grandfather's care while they went out.] Sometimes during that night, I got out of their bedroom and headed for my grandparent's bedroom -- but a shut door stopped me. As I struggled to open the door, I began to whimper and cry. At last daddy discovered me, and opened the door, spanking my bottom, and making me declare later the words that would be repeated at family gatherings, "Daddy spanked my butt-oh!"

A Christmas filled with all kinds of gifts. I was the first and only grandchild for four years; they all loved lavishing me with presents, and not just at Christmas. I was, in the space of those four years, pampered and petted, doted on by my paternal grandparents and my daddy's older brother and sister, my aunt and uncle.

That's it for today, quite a long entry.