2 Things

You know how  you're just going along, minding your own business and every mechanical thing you have bands against  you in a revolt?

Yeah. Well, that happened to us day before yesterday. Or it all came to a head then, anyway.

The truck was already at the Garage because it was sputtering and Husband almost didn't make it home in it the other day. Since we have two other cars, we told them no hurry, get to it when they could.

The car I drive all the time kept having a dash light come on. They had run the diagnostics and said it needed a software update, and a dealership had to do it.

So, we made an appointment with the dealership. Who promptly told us they had to run their own diagnostic. Which they did. And said it would be $700 to fix the car (!) plus $70 more to replace a headlight that had just burned out. I called our Garage and they said, "No, no, no! Bring back here." I told them how soon we needed it and he began to whimper.

It's very sad to hear a grown man whimper.

We slipped it under radar early the next morning before they opened, and they fixed it by opening time.

But when I thought they couldn't I said "We can drive the other car meanwhile." Husband informed me we could not, as the transmission seemed to be slipping.

So, we have NO cars?

Meanwhile, the hard drive on my desktop stopped allowing me to have Internet. The nice geek I spoke with on the phone, who had me standing on my head and whispering strange incantations, said the thingamabob inside the hard drive had apparently croaked and would be pretty expensive to replace (of course!). However; since it sits close to the modem I could probably buy a $20 whatsis and set it on top of the hard drive and it could pick up the Internet by wifi wireless.

I'll get right on that in a day or two.

The other thing I was gonna write about will just have to wait.

I'm too tired to even bring it up.

Turning a Sow's Ear into a Wal-Mart Purse

Several years ago, when we built our garage, we added an extra twelve feet in length, partitioned it off and called it Husband's studio.

At first he was enthusiastic. Painted the walls with the color he picked out, bought a few framed prints, put up valances in dark blue, that kind of thing.

He put his art supplies in it.

Then it sat and gathered dust and cobwebs and general nastiness as years went by. When he did decide to do art, he lugged stuff from there to the kitchen table, thus disabling two places.

I finally cobbled out a corner of the studio for a work computer, thinking that I could go there and be alone to work.

Ha.

My family all have working legs and you know where those legs took them.

At any rate, about two months ago, I stopped and looked around me. This little room had potential, if I didn't think I'd smother to death every time I went in.

So, I went to work. By that I mean I put Husband and Daughter to work.

Now it looks rather spacious. I have a good file cabinet, a work table, an armchair for company, good lighting and shelves for all the books I have for sale.

Husband still has his own computer out here, plus his easel and art supplies. He even perked up and said this now looked like a place where he might be able to paint or draw.

As soon as the floors are cleaned, I'll have a pretty spiffy place. Give us a few days to get that last chore done, and I'll give you the grand tour.

It won't take long, the place is twelve feet wide.

In a Foreign Land

Having to work on another computer besides my own seems a little like using your left instead of your right (if you are right handed, of course.)

It's awkward. I keep making typos because the key board is different. The typeset is different.

I don't like it.

I'm used to my stuff. I call this the 'only child syndrome'. I know, I know. I have two brothers. But I was an only child during my formative years, ten of them, in fact.

 I call myself an only child with two brothers. It works for me, so leave me alone.

It really is something one has to struggle with when in relationships with others, like a husband or a daughter.

Even though Daughter is an only child, the syndrome includes not understanding that other people are too, and need you to leave their stuff the heck alone.

Thank goodness her feet are skinnier and longer than mine. Although, she has managed to squeeze her foot into a couple of pair of my flats.

If I had all my clothes from the 1970's she could borrow them, but my current wardrobe is a bit large for her.

She can, however; fit into my wedding dress that I wore in 1972. And she's welcome to it, as long as she doesn't use it for its original intent.

And Husband? Ha, ha. He comes from a large family who shared one bathroom, and as far as I can tell, he respects in no way that anything belongs to anyone else. Well, unless it's his stuff, of course.

Not that I mind  him borrowing my tweezers, clippers, file, bookmark, book, etc. If he would just put it back where he got it.

But does he? Noooooo. And to add insult to injury, he can't remember what he did with it when he is finished using whatever it is.

Did I mention my keys??

At least when  Daughter 'borrows' something, she knows where she left it last.

So, anyway. I guess I shouldn't be griping, since I'm borrowing their computers.

And I promise I won't misplace it once I'm done.

Can you be homesick for your own computer? Maybe I should name it. Delores!

I've not even called to check on it. I mean, it isn't like it's a sick child or pet, and I figure they would see it as harassment. Husband says they were 'covered up' with work when he took it, and didn't know how long it would take to get to mine.

Must be a virus going around.

Until tomorrow: signing off with a hopes for a happy homecoming soon.

I miss you, Delores.