The big event this week was the sun getting power-cycled. I'm pleased to report that it came back up with no signs of mal-ware or other issues.

I was on hand to make sure the system restarted properly.

I drove down to Ohio with a friend to watch the event. This is the first time I've seen a full, total eclipse of the sun.

I had the clever idea of going to a Love's truck stop just north of Columbus where there's lots of free parking, a dog park for Caz and fast-food for me.

We got there with plenty of time to spare. The traffic was a little heavy, but the only slowdowns were construction.

Otherwise, this was a bad idea. First, I wasn't the only one to think of it - the parking area was already filled. Second, I'd never noticed how LOUD a truck stop is. It's close to the highway, so of course there's the traffic noise, but there's also a few dozen diesels idling, and cars coming and going.

Part of the eclipse experience is hearing the birds sing their evening songs in the middle of the day, watching them nest, etc.

We'd driven by a few signs for Eclipse Parking a half-hour back, so we decided to backtrack (and be closer to home) and find one of those.

We followed signs into the wilds of Ohio where no man ventures without a combine and harvester.

Then we ran out of signs and started to wonder if some jokester had put up signs just to lure unwary Michiganders into wandering far afield.

I kept expecting to hear the theme from Deliverance, or Blair Witch Project.

We finally decided to just park by the side of a back road, but as we looked for a spot, we saw people who were already parked on the side leaving.

We watched a guy on a motor cycle stop by one car, then saw the couple packing their chairs.

A quick stop and questions, and we learned that this was private land and the owner didn't want anyone trespassing and besides, we'd *almost* found the parking area,

So another backtrack and twenty bucks bought us a parking spot in a back field with a dozen other folks.

This was a good spot to watch the eclipse. It was quiet enough to hear the birds and the bees, flowers and trees, and Caz got to wander about and fertilize places he'd never seen. We ended chatting with the other folks from Michigan who had come to Ohio for the afternoon.

I suspect that Ohio sank and Michigan rose a few inches from the weight of all the people who went south for the afternoon.

During the early parts of the eclipse, even when there was only a tiny sliver of the sun exposed are barely noticeable was not much different than an overcast, cloudy day. The color of the sunlight was a little bluer than usual, and things had a slightly grayish cast.

Full totality was another matter. It's not as dark as real night, but the color of the light is like a late evening. The birds sang their evening songs as the sun faded, and a bunch of them clumped in a field to nest.

The temperature dropped about ten degrees and it got positively chilly.

I was concerned about traffic when we went to Ohio, but it wasn't a problem.

Going back made up for it.

In retrospect, it made sense. Chatting with folks I learned that some had come down the night before, others left very early in the morning, We came down mid-morning, and some folks arrived just barely before the totality.

But everyone left at once when the sun came back.

A friend commented that this was a small-scale experience of what an "Evacuate the area" event would be like.

It was also a test of the various GPS mapping applications. I was using my phone's crowd-sharing app, and it sent me off the freeway onto back roads frequently: "County Road 1234 will save you 14 minutes over using I75, exit here."

There were some backups on the back roads, but not so severe as the Interstates were experiencing.

Despite my GPS's best efforts, coming home took about twice as long as going down.

Since I moved my work area, I've been noticing the odor of cat, but I couldn't track it down.

Last week, I put fresh batteries in the UV flashlight and went hunting again.

The three-inch wide gap between my china hutch and the wall glowed brightly. I've got no clue how the animals got back there. It's too narrow for even my rag mop.

By rights, I should empty the cabinet, slide it away from the wall, and do a thorough cleaning.

I think there's three sets of Carol's and her mom's good china in there. I doubt I'll ever use any of it, but I also didn't want to move it around.

Instead of moving dishes and cabinet, I sprayed Nature's Miracle back there.

The clever thing I figured out (I may be the last person on Earth to have noticed this) is that the hole at the top of a broomstick that's there so you can hang up the broom is big enough to push a rag through. This makes a nice narrow rag-mop that fits between the china hutch and the wall.

I won't claim I did a good cleaning job, but I did a good-enough job. I don't smell the cat odor while I'm working, which makes me (if not the cats) happy.