Saturday, February 9, 2013

Windows8 - 0, Barbara - 1

For a while there yesterday afternoon the score was reversed, then I called around, found a copy of Windows7, flung down some mad money (oh, honey, I was MAD), and brought it home to erase that detested and incomprehensible Windows8 and gracefully fall back to Windows7.  *pant, pant*  For a while there I was in danger of losing my mind (my patience with it was looooong gone) but Durwood was the voice of reason and told me to "just go get what you need to fix it" so I did.  I had to yoink off all the files and stuff on the hard drive because before installing a new OS you need to erase it; that took a couple hours but I managed with only one extra call to the tech guy, Zack, who was very patient and even told me that I didn't sound like I'm over 60.  (Was that a compliment?  I'm taking it as one.)  Now I am slowly rebuilding the machine in my image, or at least the way I kind of remember it.  It means installing iTunes, Microsoft Office, Webroot virus protection, and a jillion kabillion things I can't think of right now but will rear up as I go.  I don't care.  I was able to download the audiobooks I'd borrowed from the library (now to get iTunes to download; it's being stubborn, but I'm downloading a big update of Win7 so I can be patient) last night after knitting.  That made me happy.

It's foggy this morning, real foggy, but it's also about 10 degrees so the fog's freezing and drifting down in tiny flakes.  It's kinda pretty but also kinda creepy.  The trees are all frosted so they look all misty but the coolest thing I saw was frost designs on the shiny chimes of Durwood's wind chimes when I went out to fill the birdbath.

Today I'll be making homemade chocolate pudding pies for tonight's Family Supper.  I've got a small pile of knitted and crocheted dishcloths for HZ to pick a couple from and a jar of hot chocolate mix that I made that's super-delicious but also way too fattening.  I found another recipe made with Splenda that's only 2 WW points per serving; a much better choice so they get the batch of the other stuff.  They're more active and younger and skinnier than us.  And it's off my counter and out of the reach of temptation.

February 9--Edgar Degas, A Woman Ironing.  I used to love the smell of clothes being ironed.  I'd sit in the corner of the kitchen with a scrap of an old bed sheet in a hoop to practice my embroidery while Grandma ironed her way through the week's laundry.  She had an old RC Cola bottle with a sprinkle top on it.  It was my job to sprinkle water on the dress shirts and roll them up so they'd be damp and the wrinkles would come out easier.  The smell of hot cotton would rise like the steam and the old iron would groan and grumble when it got low on water.  I remember Grandma telling me that when the iron complained it was time for a break.  We'd go sit on the screen porch and share a Coke while we watched for cardinals in the feeder.

Look at that.  Edgar actually painted something other than ballerinas.  How about that.  Okay, iTunes isn't cooperating. Time to go see what's up.  Toodles.

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

This is my favorite story so far. A memory of mother ironing is one of the few I have from my childhood. Sweet reminisce.