We are going to attempt Mass this morning, for the first time since December 23. We all stayed on to lunch in Inverary that day, and have since wondered if that was the point at which the Dread Lurgy joined the party.
We had a reasonably successful day with the Surface yesterday, but it’s tough going, and I have made a rod for my own back. I need some time with it on my own, to try to solve various problems – and I will need to sit beside my husband for quite a while as he gets used to Microsoft Word and screen-touching. I’m not very fluent in Word myself. I deeply lament the demise of the instruction manual, a form of literature I once much enjoyed.
And I must get the Income Tax done: that's not optional.
But we’ve set the Surface up, and gone on-line, and figured out how to import files through the famous USB port. It couldn’t “see” our old detachable disk drive, but it can read a memory stick. I hope we will be able to access Dropbox, up there in the Cloud, where most of my husband’s work already resides. An initial attempt at that failed.
My husband thinks he wants to try using a virtual keyboard instead of the nifty slimline physical one with which the machine comes provided. I googled that question last night and think I learned that there is a virtual keyboard, but where? The Microsoft website denied all knowledge of the phrase. It occurred to me during the watches of the night that probably all we need to do is detach the physical one.
One of the things I look forward to my husband learning, is how slow and frustrating web searches can prove. He won't like it.
He also wants the screen to be less bright.
Little to report. The sleeve progresses nicely. I have ordered longer Knit Pro needles for the delicious moment fast approaching when sleeves and body join.
Jean from Cornwall, thank you very much for the rhyme about Candlemas (which =’s, of course, the Feast of the Purification), and Mary Lou for reminding me that it’s the day when throats are blessed. Around here, it’s more or less the moment when one can see and feel the returning light, and a highly appropriate one, therefore, for calculating whether spring might be ready to settle down and stay.