My first blog using the new Mac. I must say I like it and it's a lot quicker with stuff than the old PC. I'm still not sure what to do about printing though, but Lord H assures me that can be sorted. Emails seem to be getting through, though I'm having trouble with sending some replies. I'm hoping that will be solved soon as well! Mind you, the slightly wild whooshing noise the Mac makes when it sends something is utterly terrifying. Still, at least you know it's been sent - somewhere ... I only wish I knew how to make the font larger. But, all in all, I think I'm about to be a Mac convert.
This morning I have been getting my own prescriptions sorted out - it took a couple of car journeys (lucky I filled up on petrol then - in a panic-free fashion) but I'm okay now. Or as okay as I ever am. Sadly, my sick Guildford friend is back in hospital and not up to seeing people today, but we're hoping she might be up to being visited next week. And if she's really unlucky, one of those visitors will be me!
I've also been zapping along with Hallsfoot's Battle - goodness me, it's amazing how much easier - and more exciting - writing becomes when you give up worrying about being published. Astonishingly, I'm now at over 6000 words and I even have ideas. Hell, if I'd known giving up on (ho ho) the idea of potential fame and fortune would have this effect, I would bloody well have kicked my ego into touch sooner. Give me anonymity and a life of literary obscurity and watch those fingers fly.
Maybe I should even write a book on "How Not To Be A Successful Writer ... Stylishly" - I have the experience after all. No, no! Stop! Even I see that it would be just too surreal if some commercial bugger actually published it. Then, gods preserve us, where would my reputation for failure be?... Ah, that way madness lies indeed. I'll stick to the day job.
Meanwhile the mysteries of our temporary holiday post-boy continue - when our usual man is away, which he obviously is this week, post is delivered in a variety of ways and at a plethora of times. On Monday, the new boy delivered the post for the whole house to the downstairs neighbour, who then had to trudge up and down the stairs giving it to the correct owners. Today, I pop down to the hall just after lunch and find a Waterstone's package for Lord H wedged in the partially-open window frame. Are letter-boxes just too dull these days? I fear that tomorrow the street will have to be on the alert in case Postie decides simply to lob the letters at us as he cycles by.
Tonight, I'm planning an evening doing sod-all apart from watching the last (no, no, don't leave us - I'll never find out what happens to the blue tits now!) "Springwatch" and catching up with "My Name is Earl". It's a tough life, but hell somebody's got to live it.
Today's nice things:
2. Marvelling at postal deliveries