Passwords

Today, I started changing my passwords. I've been using a weak-ish one for the most part, with a medium-stregth one from time to time and a stronger one on occasion. It was sort of hit-or-miss where I used what, and the primary password I've been using for too long, so I came up with a new strong password for everyday things and a different new strong password for important things like bank accounts. I'm curious to find out how long it takes before I stop finding websites that need password updates.

I have a password/acct no keeper for the iPod now, too, so now you just have to steal my iPod to steal my identity. Well, and guess the password or do some of those hacking things to steal the data.

The story of the Dr. Suess plant

I think it was Bronwyn who said that the plant, a palm of some sort, looked like something from a Dr. Suess book. She was right. It was a tall and crooked, with weird bends and twists in its skinny trunk. At the top, three or four big leaves drooped half-heartedly. It wasn't an attractive plant. It was kind of silly looking. But Susan loved it, and that was enough for me.

Susan hoped that a new planter and fresh dirt would help it, so she re-planted it. It didn't help; indeed, it seemed to make things worse. The last few leaves fell off and we were left with a six-foot twisty turny stick. Susan was sad, but she agreed that it had to go. I pulled it out of the planter (not difficult) and took it out to the garden.

When I came back in to a sad Susan, I had an idea. I know that new plants can be grown from parts of old plants, so I suggested that we lop of the top of the old plant and put it in some water and maybe it would grow again. So I took a kitchen knife outside and lopped off the top 8" or so of the plant. I brought it inside and Susan put it in a coffee cup of water and set it on a shelf by the window.

A week or so later, I realized how stupid the idea was. I mean, I'm not a botanist, but a chunk of plant that looks like the tip of a spear isn't just going to spontaneously grow roots. I told Susan that it probably wasn't going to work. She didn't want to hear it, so she ignored me.

A week later, she showed me that the plant had indeed started roots. Little shoots from under the water that looked like bean sprouts. A couple of 'em, both just a half-inch long or so.

And then a leaf came. And then another. And Susan bought some little clay balls to hold it upright and help it to grow. It started growing even more. And it's still growing in that coffee cup, though it needs to be transferred to a bigger vessel soon.

I love that plant.



The plant with a Moo-Cow. If you follow the stem of the top leaf down, you'll see a spiky offshoot. That's the next leaf. The tenth one, to be exactly. Not bad for a dead plant growing in a coffee cup.