When Jan Preston first invited me to become more closely acquainted with THE COMPUTER, I laughed and told her that getting together over a cup of coffee would be more likely. We could always talk about education. Having been in the field of public education for decades, we had our own opinions. And if that discussion was not suitable, we could always turn to politics. But I became acquainted with THE COMPUTER. Jan is persuasive. Before the year was up, a closet in what once was a spare bedroom became the future home of my computer village and the bedroom served as my private domain. It has been said that even my husband knocked before entering. For a short time four little orphan skunks also shared that space. I loved raising and rehabilitating orphaned wildlife. Needless to say, that time of shared occupancy had everyone around here on tiptoes. Joann who had blessed me with that challenge, referred to them as wood-pussies.

My friend Frances introduced me to ICON. That was when I became aware of the seemingly limitless plethora of mental activities and adventures that awaited me. Of course my somewhat limited use of the English language branched out. Search engines weren't air-plane engines after all. ICON blessed me with a computer Guru. Clarence became a trusted friend who troubled himself with that difficult task of educating the computer illiterate and raising that status to computer neophyte. Of course I had told him in the beginning that I was only interested in WRITING; NOTHING MORE PLEASE.

It was Frances who suggested a SCANNER. As she explained; "It's just a little thing you hold in front of the keyboard and you can copy your old manuscript right in to the computer." Clarence defined it a little more. "What you really want is a flatbed scanner." I didn't respond so readily this time. It seemed that every time I did respond it was just a little like computer halitosis. Flatbed scanner sounded just an awful lot like search engine. I certainly knew how big a Flatbed truck was. Louie had a flatbed truck and that didn't fit in my living room, much less in this little closet space. Clarence explained that scanner-thing. He installed the scanner and he explained a little about graphics and graphics programs. And I reassured him that all I was interested in was WRITING. That was before I became acquainted with the art of scanning pictures. I did write. I finished one book I started another but I also played with pictures. My former editor introduced me to the idea of putting little wild flowers in the scanner and scanning them directly. When I tried that with a little lady bug, it didn't work out so well. My son told me that I would have learned that lesson more quickly if I had attempted to scan a cockroach. It's a family secret around out house that lions and tigers don't faze, but cockroaches can induce sound and movement rarely heard. Umax was my trusted little scanning device until friend Gerry introduced me to the art of scanning negatives. Writing took a backseat to attempting miracles with old black and white pictures. Of course locating a machine that really produces worthwhile results is more difficult than understanding flatbed scanner in the first place. Climbing Mount Everest could not have equaled the thrill I experienced when I rescued one particular black and white negative from oblivion, with Gerry's help of course. Watching my sister-in-laws face when she saw the picture, that little black and white picture, taken fifty years ago. Of course there is a new mission in my life. Of course I will still write. Writing is still the primary objective. But in my office, on top of a large travel kennel, waits an old cigar box full of family history, dusty little black and white negatives patiently waiting to be resurrected, resting so to speak on the threshold of becoming valued family memorabilia.

That little scanner, folks, as Martha would say; IS A GOOD THING.