Just realized I have - not a large number, but a non-trivial one - of journals on my flist for which the authors are deceased.

It's oddly sobering. At the same time, it's also strangely comforting to see that their words that they sent out into the world are still there, in this small way.

Happy birthday, moontyger!

Happy birthday, theoldone!

Happy Birthday, redneckgaijin!

Happy Birthday, moontyger! Hope you have a great one.

Happy Birthday, theoldone! The party was lovely!

A felicitious solar return to laughingrat!

A very happy birthday, and many happy returns of the day, to the lovely and talented greeneyedpagan!

Happy Birthday, moontyger! Hope it's a good one!

Happy Birthday, cheshirebast!

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I have the autoharp about two-thirds restrung. I also have poked three holes in my hands, lost a very narrow strip of skin on my left index finger, and broken two of the new strings (one of those was totally my fault, and I'd had to cut the old string off, so I couldn't put it back; I suspect a manufacturing defect in the other, and fortunately for that one I could replace it temporarily with the old string). I figured I would take the second break (the one that was my fault) as my cue to walk away from it for a little bit. I'll take a crack at finishing it tomorrow or Sunday, and then go by RRGuitars with the broken strings and see if I can get replacements from them.

The good news is that once I do this, I won't have to do it again for a while. :-/