Sadly I’ve given up on the other laptop now. We considered taking it for repair again but it seemed like throwing good money after bad, so out came the desktop which has been languishing in a corner since we moved here, for lack of a desk to put it on top of. Well, I now have a desk of sorts and having run out of other options we decided to give it a try. Sometimes – to paraphrase Sherlock Holmes – when you’ve run out of possibilities whatever remains, however impossible, must be the way to go.
It was like doing a Rubik’s cube. A space just wide enough between the bed and the ottoman now houses the CPU while the monitor and peripherals perch on what I am pleased to call my desk. Everything worked. Joy. A dongle was swiftly purchased and inserted into the proper orifice and here I am blogging on the desktop. Actually it was a pleasure to use it: I felt bad about seeing it languish for so long.
I spent the rest of the day trying not to think about Brexit. I don’t know whether to feel glad or not about the government’s defeat; on the one hand anything that might get rid of them is to be welcomed but on the other, the appalling mess that was unleashed in 2016 is no nearer being resolved. May seems to soldier on regardless in a sort of deep denial, passing landmark after landmark which in normal circumstances would see Prime Ministers resign, determined just to plough on like someone driving at sixty miles an hour along a road which will shortly be plunging into a ravine. There are service stations and rest rooms, there are escape roads and ambulance crews but she ignores them all. I simply cannot understand what goes on in her mind.
Well, at least I can attempt to discover what goes on in my mind…
Kirk out
Sarada Gray 