We’ve been debating whether or not to get an Amazon account. We don’t do a lot of online shopping, so it doesn’t feel worth it to me. On the other hand, there are things difficult to get in stores but easy to get on Amazon (e.g., my hair products), so maybe it is.

The thing I’ve noticed as we dithered over whether to get an account is that we’re buying less. When it isn’t convenient because I need to order from three different sites to get what I need, and when shipping isn’t free, I drag my feet on ordering at all. Which probably tells me the thing I’m about to order is a want, not a need.

A case in point: The rubber around my phone case is breaking off. I could order a new rubber sleeve if we had an Amazon account. Ordering it from anywhere else costs more than it’s worth. I’ve decided to live with the phone case as is. It’s kind of punk rock. Or well-loved?

We already order coffee, pet supplies, and books from other sites. If I buy my hair products in bulk, I can get free shipping from other sites. Maybe it’s best if we don’t give ourselves an easy door to step through.

We’ve been inside Buckingham Palace twice since they started renovations in 2017, and both times, we’ve been amazed by the care extended to the rooms and objects inside while modernizing the space. You can feel the history in every room while also knowing that once upon a time, the palace did not have lights. Modernization and historical respect, hand-in-hand.

You know where I am going with this.

I am super sad seeing the photos of the White House, and it makes me want to avoid the area downtown. I am glad I have photos from some of the rooms destroyed in the rebuild. It was the way I entered the White House the first time I went. (And the hallway the first time I met Bo.) I’m sad to see that history gone forever. You can’t build it back.

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Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

And now the blogs…

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But first, second, helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. To read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “40 ans” (Des méandres aux étoiles)
• “Päckchen” (Elaine ohne Kind)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Infertile Phoenix writes about being an observer or an experiencer. She explains: “The Experiencer is the part of you that is experiencing a situation complete with your thoughts and your feelings and all. The Observer is the part of you that is removed from the situation and can see it without everything that comes with experiencing it.” She applies it to a thoughtless conversation with her mother, but it’s a useful tool to process any difficult situation or conversation. Go over to read about it in action.

Lastly, Finding a Different Path keeps back what she really wants to say after an insensitive assumption/comment. She doesn’t say anything at all, realizing that she doesn’t want to be flippant or explanatory. She writes: “I thought how I don’t really know two of the four people at the table, and did I really want to brandish my losses at the bowling Grand Hurrah? Was it necessary? Would it make life better for anyone? Nope.” Sometimes what we don’t say is as profound as what we do say. And yay to “adorable guinea pigs and a satisfying hobbit-y existence.”

The roundup to the Roundup: Can’t get it back. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between October 17 – 24) and not the blog’s main URL. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week. Read the original open thread post here.

A few weeks ago, The Atlantic had an article about Judy Blume’s Forever, and how kids secretly passed certain books around. It was easy to get Forever at our library, and all of Judy Blume’s books, but the ones that we passed around were V.C. Andrews — The Flowers in the Attic series and then the Heaven books.

The passing of the books was almost more important than reading the books themselves. I loved that everyone entered the trading path. Most of the people who passed along the next book to me were not even my friends. They just knew how powerful it was to keep the story moving from kid to kid, all of us devouring complete trash.

The only thing I didn’t get to do was start one of the chains. I tried when a new book came out. We were in the grocery store, and the new book was right by the cash register. I casually told my mum that I thought I should get it, and she just replied, “Do you?” I had to report that I was not successful the next day on the playground, but luckily, enough other kids had gotten copies and started them through the underground book exchange.

Many years ago, the same thing happened with Vox by Nicholson Baker. Everyone was reading it on my college campus, and when people finished, they would hand off their copy to another person. Someone dropped their copy in my lap when I was sitting on Library Mall — no words, just gave me the book. I passed along that copy to someone else after finishing it in one night. I ended up buying myself a copy to keep with the black cover, which I liked more than the pink cover I got in the exchange.

This is kind of lost now with digital books. Passing along the story becomes more piracy than an underground book exchange, which makes me sad. Because there was really nothing better than reading a book you sensed you weren’t old enough to have yet.

I’ve told this story before, but now it has another chapter.

A long time ago, I decided to purchase the 35th anniversary copy of The Phantom Tollbooth, even though I owned many other copies of the book. But this copy stated that the author lived in my town. I grabbed the white pages (because back then, children, we had to look up addresses and telephone numbers in huge books… if you can believe that) and discovered that he lived 4 BLOCKS AWAY.

I called him at home around 9 pm, and he answered the phone. Rather than berating me for calling so late, he informed me that I wasn’t the first person to call him like this. I told him that it would mean the world to me if I could take him out for coffee.

And with all of the kindness of Tock, Mr. Juster invited me over to his house for tea. After work, I dressed up in a red checkered dress and tied my hair into two braids. I walked the four blocks between our houses and almost chickened out on the front lawn. I am so glad that I took a deep breath and knocked because it turned out to be one of the greatest afternoons of my life. There is nothing quite like getting to have tea with your idol on his porch.

Our lives crossed many times, and when he died, I posted the last picture that we took together. It was at a dinner party celebrating the 50th anniversary of the book. I feel very lucky that I got to see my idol so many times, and the kids got to meet him, too.

But I realized years ago that I had never been back to the house. I couldn’t even remember where it was located. Luckily, the town put up a plaque, and I was able to drive by when I was in the area and see the screened-in porch where we had tea. Everyone waited for me in the car while I walked around the outside of the house, remembering how I felt standing that first time on the front lawn. I was so young. I was so excited. I couldn’t help it; I started crying thinking of that version of me, who is still somewhere inside of me.

I got back in the car, drying my face. It’s a good reminder to go back to a place sometimes.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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Oldster ran a pre-obit a few weeks ago, written by a husband for his wife. He wanted her to be able to see what would be said about her before she died. This part made me cry: “I think now of that mountain and I think of your smile, and the joy of our weird, dirty honeymoon comes back to me. I will always be happy walking with you wherever we go, however high the mountains get.”

I really love the idea of a pre-obit, much more than actual obits. Or the pre-funeral in The Fault in Our Stars rather than an actual funeral. When possible, people should know how you feel.

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Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts connected to businesses or sponsored posts.