HERE AT LAST.
A couple of years or so back we found ourselves ringing a 'specialist' firm at a cost of £30 ($40.82) - payable in advance - to find out whether the couple of my prescription drugs that the dog Buddy had purloined, in my momentary absence to fetch a glass of water, would cause him any harm.
Transpired they wouldn't.
My Leader later related the story to a dog owning friend whose instant response was: "Don't ever get caught like that again. Any problem of that sort I ever have I just Google it. They give me the answer without rifling my bank account on the way."
What a sensible lady.
What a sensible lady.
So, not for the first time (I've been having a problem printing posts in the old blog format for what seems to be forever), I sought Google advice. You never get to speak to anybody. Hell, with all the people who use Google they'd never get off the phone. You just click onto them and read very carefully their response to your problem and, sooner or (in the case of this ancient Englishman) later, the solution will be presented to you.
And here it is.
I like it and think it might provide an answer to an irksome problem I have experienced when printing the old layout - sentence spacing.
I have run it past the computer lifeboat captain (our Neil) and he says it looks fine.
I don't suppose you care and I don't blame you. A blogger fussing over post layout is about as important as an assistant film director worrying over whether an actor was wearing a white silk or a white cotton shirt in the last shot. Nobody else except, perhaps, the director (or a pedantic actor) will give a shit.
THERE'S BRITISH FOR YOU,
Two pen'orth of sun and we're banjaxed! My Leader is acting like somebody who has been abandoned by a camel train in the Sahara. Not me. From age 18 to 21 I was stationed in Cyprus, mostly living in tin Nissan huts that would have horrified the health and safety lobby today.
Warm weather doesn't bother me.
Mo's outlook has not been helped by the car breaking down again, Happened yesterday in Marks and Sparks car park. The staff there were lovely, she says: but it looks like her Dacia Stepway will be going nowhere for her until sometime next month. One of its failed parts has to come directly from France.
I like it and think it might provide an answer to an irksome problem I have experienced when printing the old layout - sentence spacing.
I have run it past the computer lifeboat captain (our Neil) and he says it looks fine.
I don't suppose you care and I don't blame you. A blogger fussing over post layout is about as important as an assistant film director worrying over whether an actor was wearing a white silk or a white cotton shirt in the last shot. Nobody else except, perhaps, the director (or a pedantic actor) will give a shit.
It's not like paddling a tin tub across a busy shipping channel to be seek asylum in England, is it?
What?
Ah yes...
THE WEATHER,
Two pen'orth of sun and we're banjaxed! My Leader is acting like somebody who has been abandoned by a camel train in the Sahara. Not me. From age 18 to 21 I was stationed in Cyprus, mostly living in tin Nissan huts that would have horrified the health and safety lobby today.
Warm weather doesn't bother me.
Mo's outlook has not been helped by the car breaking down again, Happened yesterday in Marks and Sparks car park. The staff there were lovely, she says: but it looks like her Dacia Stepway will be going nowhere for her until sometime next month. One of its failed parts has to come directly from France.
So now she is busy making cushions for Jess and worrying lest I wander into the garden and get sunstroke. Yeah, that's nearly sixty years of married life for you.
Good, ain't it.
Stay cool you select few.
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