The Good Life... a weblog about life, technology, and the Opera web browser

Well, I've finally taken the plunge and updated my site to Drupal. I'm sure there are some broken things, so if you run into problems, add a comment to this post or send me an e-mail.

With this new software, you can sign up for an account if you post comments often. Otherwise, you'll get stuck in the moderation queue before comments will be posted.

It was about a month ago that Rebekah and I returned from Lynchburg for graduation at Lynchburg and Randolph-Macon Woman's Colleges (RMWC). It was a time to share in the joy of our friends and greet those we hadn't seen in so long. And for Rebekah and I, it was time to take another step on the path of life we walk together.

RMWC is a school of traditions and superstitions, as well as a fine educational institution. Nestled amongst the red brick buildings is an innocent gazebo-esque tower, part of the RMWC folklore. It's said that only fiancés or fiancées may safely enter, other entrants risking future engagement bliss. It just so happened that Rebekah and I were out walking that Saturday evening, following the sidewalks woven amongst the buildings and the red brick wall guarding the campus. Through the garden and past the library, we climbed the stairs next to the Engagement Tower.

The invasion is nearly over. The woods rustle in the wind, happy to hear themselves again. Defeated, we locked ourselves inside for a month, nearly able to forget about the persistent hum outside. We reemerge now, sweeping aside the carcasses and marveling at nature's shimmering cicada wing collages left in storm drains after evening rain storms. In a couple of weeks, they'll be a distant memory, only jumping to our attention as we rest our hand on a tree next to a long-abandoned husk.

It was like an alien occupation, the bewildering hum of our new neighbors so easily forgotten in the comfort of our homes. Walk outside and it assaults your ears and fills you with dread. Will they be stuck to my car again? Are they going to dive-bomb me? Is there one crawling up my back?

To commemorate this momentous occasion, I've posted some pictures in my gallery. And for a real thrill, don't miss Celia Finsel's images. If you want to know more about them or have a listen, head over to the UMMZ Periodical Cicada Page.