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A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Friday, April 13, 2018

The Gremlins are not Winning

Hey! I'm back! It's echoing in here.
I lost my computer and have been subsisting on the crumbs of my fairly new Kindle Fire or I'd have been hair-tearing insane by now. Especially since it's Poetry month and I couldn't post them on my blog with pictures like I like to do. Hopefully I'll figure out this new scribe of mine and we'll be in the clover.
The bad news is that my desktop computer is still Sleeping Beautying. We had to go get the Great Muckin' Giant Mother of a thumb drive (Big Bertha) to get all my stuff off my other computer. So it's off except for the 6K emails it ate about a week before it took the Big Plunge. Those are lost in the Forbidden Forest somewhere on my computer. The thing is, I want them. There are' things'.

So then, when we've pulled off every single thing we can, it's time for the napalm. And then the resurrection. And hopefully there will be sentient life in there again.

The whole problem happened because when I got my computer, it wasn't new like I'd been told. Only new to me. There was some kind of licensing snafu, or some other reason my computer refused to do anything. (Lazy wench!)

So it necessitated turning it on, then waiting a while, doing taxes, cleaning out the car, cutting the dog's toenails, and maybe doing dishes. Then I could turn on the screen. Then I had to turn the computer off (a BIG no-no, but that's what it took, I swear) and wait until the screen lit, and back on again. If I hadn't waited long enough, the gobbledy-gook of pre-opening didn't happen and the whole thing began over again. This time you'd have to go change the oil in the car, write letters to grandmothers, re-do your kitchen spice cupboard, and maybe plant the garden.

THEN it would think about going on.

And I told The Man this several times, while still trying not to complain about everything (which annoys him). So I did. Several times. Apparently all that was in vane, because when this whole shebang went down, he looked at me blankly, and said in his horrified voice, "Why would you ever do such a thing? I never told you to do that!"

Sometimes I would like to be visible and audible.

Anywho, DON'T DO WHAT I DID. If it's your Sweatheart (I know. It's on purpose), take his head in yours, drill him in the eyes with yours, and say, "Honey (only we don't use pet names 'cause I don't know why) there is something wrong with my computer. And if you don't fix it instantly, there will be a freaking boatload of trouble down the line for you. (And I know where you sleep. And I make your food.)
That might work for you. And again, if your Sweatheart is anything like mine, he'll just shoot you The Look of Ice Raying and go back to his online game. And your 'Baby' will sit there on its nicely cleaned up desk (because you've had nothing to do but clean for well over a month) and grow dust for possibly another century.

I just went ahead and used my birthday money from my mom and got a used laptop from a wonderful new friend (on which I'm writing this tome). Which means the pressure is off for figuring out the other one...possibly a horrible move on my part. You see, I miss my Baby. We were comfortable in our sloth. Sort of.

This has been one huge complaint. It shouldn't have been. My sweet husband has worked like a dog to try and figure out what's wrong with the thing. He took me down and got me that Mother of all Thumb drives (Okay there are some bigger) so we could save stuff for the newly refurbished computer. (He also got himself a lovely new monitor which now resides on my kitchen table instead of the desk in his den and a battery pack for The Son's computer. And a movie.) He transferred everything he could find to Mother. And he's really busy. I greatly appreciate that he spends time trying to help me. I'm happy that it makes him so happy to have two screens to play his games on.

And Kathryn, my new wonderful friend, gave this one to me out of the goodness of her heart, for a steal of a price (I'm writing the check after I get done with this and several hundred other chores. Really! It's almost in the mail as we speak. I might, in fact, get up and go write the check in a minute.)

Now I'll have to find something to call my computers. The Son names his computers Russian girl names. That's not for me. Maybe I should name mine after famous scribes.

At any rate, I'm back. Now I'll go load on April poetry.

Ps, I'm waiting to send in YEAR OF THE HONEY BADGERS, which won't be its title. I already know they're going to make me rename it. They'll probably go with African Tango. Which is sad because it says nothing about honey badgers. They've already asked to have it sometime this week. Hurray!!!!! Now I have to go get my email going on here...sigh.

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