So, here we are. December. Here we were yesterday, in fact.
I got started on the Christmas cards. I felt, as never before, that I was on a hiding to nothing, flogging a dead horse, whatever. This is simply too slow and expensive a way to keep in touch with old friends. How much longer will it last before email completely takes over?
My Christmas present list is coming along nicely, although there are still some awkward gaps. Alexander thinks things are getting out of hand, and we should simplify. But how? No presents for anyone over 12, except for one's own children? I can now load the list on this computer, thanks to Archie, but I haven't the faintest grasp of why it wouldn't do it when I tried in the first place.
No – I've got it. There's nothing like the way the synapses fire first thing in the morning. I had been trying to open .XLS files (spreadsheets) in the Database section of Open Office. They open fine in the Calc section.
I left a message on Saturday for the local Computer Man, asking him to come and port programs across from the old computer. I hope I'll hear from him today. Pop-up ads continue to plague me. What's the matter with McAfee?
As usual, little was done. I don't think there's much hope of getting the yarn for the Sensible Christmas Project today, but I'll start hoping. (And today is the day of F's lumpectomy. I'll keep you posted.)
Kate Davies has been producing a delectable range of new patterns in the last few days. So little time.
The Rainey sisters have been knitting Hitofude cardigans (yes, plural). Very nice indeed, and it looks fun to do. Those clever Japanese.
I still haven't shown you any pictures of Alexander's ducks. Soon. Promise.