I gave Issa a light that casts coloured stars onto the walls and ceiling. This is her reacting to it when her Mom turned it on. Issa is my surrogate grandchild, and I am deeply in love.
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I have seen the face of Stan. His fire singed my soul. But I prevailed. I wrote this post in Word last night. I posted it on this blog this morning, and this is a miracle. Why? Because late yesterday afternoon I went over to Issa’s to join her in celebrating her 2nd birthday, and discovered that her mother, Merrill, had a cable adapter I could borrow. Par-tay!
One back home, I booted it up. Apple is awesome. It knew what to do. It asked me questions as it moved through the start-up protocol. As expected, my computer asked me to verify my backup drive contained the data I wanted imported—all my personal files. I verified and soon thereafter I got a notice: This hard drive needs to be updated in order to upload the files. Do I want to download and install the update. I said yes, and Satan entered the room. The computer jammed.
I called Apple and the first person who handled me, quickly passed me on to a more senior technician who, after 15 minutes with me, passed me on to Marvin who is level one. Over a period of 90 minutes, he helped me to access the files, but all I could do was import them manually. Marvin was a genius and wonderful to work with.
My email works but I have not one of my bajillion saves emails. I have none of my music. It took me half an hour to find my files. I’m used to seeing an icon of my hard drive on my desktop that I could click on to see all my files. Well, there isn’t one. I finally discovered how to access them by trying this and that. It took me 45 minutes to figure out how to re-install Word.
The format of my email program is vastly different than on my last computer. Vastly different, and it’ll take some getting used to. I’ll be back to Apple today to get help moving my music and recovering my archived emails. Or not.
I slumped to bed aching from fighting Satan.
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Yesterday, I went to the dentist and had a seizure while I was in the chair. I had six over Wednesday and Thursday. That’s where I heard about the queen. I was surprised to be sad. I was surprised to be moved by King Chuckles. Right after, I raced to the post box, hoping to find my cables. But no. So, I came home and got busy.
My house was a mess. It was clean, but there was stuff everywhere. The new computer came with a ton of packaging, the old computer was on the floor, I hadn’t vacuumed in days and that means bud tips, needles, burrs and seeds were everywhere. There were dog bones and balls scattered about, dead flowers in vases, dishes piling up by the sink and stack of books on most surfaces. Once I started, I couldn’t stop.
With the house tidy, I watered the poor plants. I’ve been watering every second day instead of every day, and slowly building a list of the few plants that must be watered every day. So on days between big watering days, I can do very little watering. Order! And then the clean-up began.
The windstorm on Wednesday threw a shocking load of detritus into the yard—branches, cones and bud tips. Bazillions of little brown bud tips that look like bugs. I’ve a massive amount of raking and toting to do. I got a good start on the driveway yesterday, but I’ve the rest of a half-acre to clear. I’m looking forward to doing it. The weather is spectacular. Sheba is with me. I’m not in a hurry, and it’s not hot. It’s wonderful to be outdoors right now.
It'll likely take me a couple of days to do the whole yard. Plus, I’ve got another roof to clear so that my rainwater collectors fill up. I have screens on the troughs, but it’s the screens that need cleaning. They help, but they need cleaning every Summer.
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Have you noticed? I’m not writing much about my speech. I’ve written a couple of times, of late, that it’s bad. But that’s it. I don’t go on and on anymore. And I don’t think about it all the time anymore. This ‘moving on’ has been a long time coming.
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I have two majestic Pileated Woodpeckers hanging around. They are works of art, and the way they move and call is extremely endearing. They come several times a day, sometimes arriving when there are some Stellar Jays here. These are juveniles I think, because they are almost iridescent blue. They shimmer in the sunlight. And loud? Oh my God, they are loud. But I love birdsong, no matter what it sounds like.
There’s also a Northern Flicker family. One is mature and the two others are still very young. Flickers are beautiful birds. They’ve a black V on their chest, dots on their neck, red tinges in their wing tops, and bright orange feathers on the underside of their wings. You see it when they fly. And Hummers, and lots of little birds, and Downy Woodpeckers.
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Isobel, friend of Beth, husband Bert, living on Manitoulin Island—well, some island that I think begins with M. Beth told me about you in an email that I cannot now access (as mentioned above). Write to me anytime you like. I’d enjoy ‘meeting’ you via email. remember pen pals? Get my address from Beth. I’ll hope to hear from you.
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