This was yesterday. I’m still on a time lag and today I am officially procrastinating because, guess what….
My new telephone arrived yesterday (yes on a Sunday, they really didn’t need to rush on my account).
It’s been sitting on my desk where I have been observing it with suspicion.
The scant information offered any fool could manage without. Even me.
But to insert the sim card, I had to go to YouTube where a nice English chap showed me what to do.
That’s as far as I’ve got. New technology always occasions rude words and fretful agitation.
So I am taking it in stages. It’s charged and loaded.
Where’s a small child when you need one?
My first attempt with a “smart” phone was a total failure and I gave it back, admitting defeat.
Perhaps it was not entirely my ineptitude, but it certainly diminished my self-confidence and it was at least a year before I reconsidered.
The second try didn’t exactly win me over, but at least I could work with it. A few people got phone calls I didn’t intend to initiate which was embarrassing and could have been awkward, but eventually I managed to reduce those.
Truth is, when I moved cross country, I was here for weeks without any other technology, so my phone turned out to be a blessing.
My old not-so-smart phone has been so thoroughly battered, I’m amazed it hasn’t fallen to bits. It looks like some sort of relic from an archeological dig. It should be in a museum.
Now it’s sitting here looking reproachful and I’m worrying that it will refuse to transfer my essential info to the new monster.
“Euw”, says Not-so-smart, “all new and shiny. “I bet it does the washing up too!”
That would be a lot more handy than all the streaming and whatever new-fangled rubbish it offers.
In the meantime, the weather front that came through has brought cooler temperatures and heavy rain.
No frost yet, but the flora sure took a beating.
Lily went to inspect and told me things looked a bit beat-up.
Woe! It was all a bedraggled mess. Now I understand how my Mum felt when her flowers suffered set-backs.
Oh, they did look forlorn. And this was after I had lifted them from the ground and supported them with driveway markers that I appropriated from the garage. It’s called improvising.
A bit later on, when I glanced out:
They had raised their brave heads to the morning sun.
When it got so windy the other day I did my best to secure my late-developing hollyhock and it stood up quite well.
The sad thing being, it is covered in buds but with temperatures dropping nightly it can’t be long before there will be a frost and I doubt the flowers will have time to develop:(
Shasta daisy gets a prize. It was the first to flower this year and is still producing buds, to the bitter end.
You have to admire the determination of plants.
Daisies must be especially hardy.
My Cape daisy, having been reduced to a stalk by the groundhogs, got transplanted to another bed where it struggled to produce a flower, totally against the odds in late August:
This morning I noticed that it’s had a growth-spurt.
Not many people knew my mother’s Christian name because she didn’t like it, but I think it was entirely appropriate that she was named after such a hardy flower. She was an amazing lady. I only wish I’d known her better.