~ Properties to Let ~
Views across the shrubbery:
empty snail shells.
My #Tanka is Writ!
Divorce papers served
on disgraced Linux PC
~ anti-Valentine ~
Good riddance to bad rubbish;
new beast moving in Sunday.
PS I did love you once, until you trashed my work and sat there on my desk staring back at me out of a vacant monitor.
The Object of My Affection
As it’s Valentine’s Day, I’ve decided to cast my vote for the most romantic post written by a fellow blogger this year 🙂
It will be thirty-one years next month since Thom and I sent out this wedding invitation.

(designed by my sister Constance, poem by Langdon Smith).
In his wedding vows Thom borrowed this passage from Robert Browning, “Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made.” I thought they were sweet words, but I was slender and pretty, with my whole life ahead of me; I could hardly imagine growing old, let alone growing old in concert. Now I understand their import, and cannot believe my good fortune in having found such a wise old soul in such a young man.

Thom gave me the world. With him I made my very first trip overseas, back in 1987. We spent five weeks exploring Britain and Ireland.

We loved traveling so much we went back to Europe…
View original post 204 more words
Random haiku
Five days, no PC —
author sharpens her pencils.
Back to the Stone Age.
My Sick Computer Has Gone to the Vets;-)
This morning my computer went to the veterinary hospital. That’s what I told my dog anyway. How else does a person explain to her chief supervisor — Ms Labrador — the removal of such an important fixture from the house?
This is my interpretation of how our conversation went.
Dog: “My vet is a woman. That nice smiling man at the door who‘s come to collect your sickly PC can’t be a vet.”
Me: “Remember we met Mrs PC Fixit yesterday. She told us she needed to take my computer to the surgery for full diagnostics and treatment. You washed her face as your seal of approval.”
Dog: “What if this man at the door doesn’t bring your computer back?‘
Me: “Of course he will. It‘s the same as when you were an in-patient at the vets after that Alsatian bit you and the poison needed draining out of the wound. You were there overnight and then allowed home.”
Dog: “But will the PC be in pain and have stitches that need cleaning twice daily with a stinky pink liquid that smells of hospital?
Me: “No, but it will be dusted more regularly and I won’t ever again go fiddling with code in its terminal, giving it a mega dose of worms.”
Dog: “Will it need worming tablets once a quarter?”
Me: “Talking of tablets — thank heavens for small mercies. At least while I‘m computer-less I can still actively engage with the blogging community via my Asus tablet.”
Dog: “That explains it. Your PC is sick because it gave birth to a puppy out of the wrong orifice.”
Me: “Ms Labrador, I think your ears need cleaning. I did not say an**.”

