It's 1862 again.

I can go for days and days and be in 2003, then just when I least expect it - it's 1862 all over again.

The Monitor project is in high gear again and so I have to shuffle off the 21st century and slouch my way back into the 19th.

Today was spent in meeting after meeting after meeting til I wasn't quite sure what my name was - let alone what all we met about - by 5 p.m. Ah well - it's all good - as they say.

On the home front I am pleased to report that it is possible to wash one's telephone with one's laundry and still be able to get a dial tone. I like to think that Jim was conducting an important scientific experiment with sudsy telephony - and that it was in fact a complete success.

Perhaps I should write the manufacturer and tell them that they may want to include laundry settings for their products, as they fare quite well.

My father, in fact, has gone on record as saying that he believes that there has been a long tradition of laundering communication devices that perhaps predates the written record. He went so far as to say that he reckoned that prehistoric man would occasionally get his sticks with which he would drum out paleolithic semaphore mixed up with his laundry. And like our phone, those sticks came through as good as new.

This is one of the many reasons why I love my father...

Changing gears again - I am pleased to report that Dublingirl has not been abducted by aliens, crickets, or deranged filmmakers and that it turns out that she has been the victim of a telephone company plot (aha! I sense a telephonic theme today!). Hopefully when she becomes a Delaweenian this will all resolve itself completely (I say, confident in the fact that the state of Delaware must naturally be enlightened as they have a fantastic Pre-Raphaelite collection at their Art Museum).

Enough rambling. Harry Potter is calling me.......