A baby step because I was able to upload the picture from my camera to the new computer and later add it to a new blog message.
Two-thirty PM March 3rd and I must report that I’m unable to upload pictures. I’ve come to the conclusion that the problem rests with the Canon camera.
Sixty-seven degrees “indoors” (10:30) is misleading. The thermometer was about fifteen feet from the two electric space heaters. Believe me, it was considerably colder in the bedroom! Guess what: I was bundled up in my “Slanket,” (wearing pajamas and robe), with my mug of hot coffee, but oh so cold. (I was five feet from two space heaters, watching the Today show.) This old lady went back to bed and covered her head!! Perhaps an hour of sleep? But I was forced to leave my hide-away because the backyard neighbor is/was “weed whacking.” (Weed whacking about fifteen feet from the head of my bed!!) ~~ Now I am three feet from a space heater with a fresh mug of coffee. (The previous… was abandoned and got stone-cold!) ~~ Friday morning is the earliest available time for the plumber who was called (by the RV Park owner-manager) to repair the propane leak. Earlier this week, the owner-manager and four other men searched high and low to locate the leak. (High: Indoors looking behind the cookstove and around the furnace. Low: Crawling around under the trailer.) ~~ I’m so grateful for all my new kind, thoughtful, considerate neighbors and the wonderful RV-Park owner-manager. (And the backyard neighbor had no idea his neighbor was in bed at ten-fifteen!!) ~~ On my electric hot-plate, I am preparing a big kettle of old-fashioned oatmeal with raisins. That will be yum-yum good!
Bad news first: It is very cold outdoors. The outdoor thermometer, in the sunshine, says sixty degrees but the wind makes it feel much colder. Good news: I started exploring Windows-10 and I’m creating this message on the new computer. I was able to access Picasa and upload my pictures. I hoped to include some pictures but (bad news) the pictures that I uploaded are not here (lost in space?). 😦 😦 Very good news: The monitor is so large, and the print is so large, “the old lady” has an excellent view (with poor vision) of preparation of the blog. “Preparation” is fifty-percent different on Windows-10 so appearance may differ considerably.
The program starts with a cartoon. Be patient! FYI: The interview with Stephen Stang started at 11 minutes 45 seconds into the show but the earlier interview is very interesting, too.
I checked my links and question whether the reader will want to go to the trouble of viewing the program. When you click on the link you will go to TBN. Then select “search” followed by (type) Eric Metaxas. Then type 2/23 in the release date. I apologize because I always prefer a direct link to a website. IMHO, the interview is worth the inconvenience it takes to get there.
Happy Birthday Daddy !! You are forever in our Hearts ♥️! I miss you every Day , The life lesson you taught me are with me all the time , you taught me Nothing is free Hard work pays off , you taught me our lives are not about our selves but the people who are in our lives , you taught me to be kind , giving , honest and always help others I am blessed to be your Daughter Thank you for Being The Best Dad Ever !! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Had he lived, this would be his eight-sixth birthday. The daughter he adopted posted that message (yesterday) on Facebook. I remember him very differently. His three biological sons grew up without their father because he deserted them (1964), and a devoted wife of eleven years. He moved 2,500 away from his first family.
(10:30 AM) Do you think divorce doesn’t hurt a child? Read what my sixty-five-year-old number one son wrote yesterday.
Yeah, I’m a cold-hearted son of a bitch …
February 23, 2020 in g’da said
I can’t be fucked any harder than I already have. The product of mid-fifties promiscuous pregnancy and sixties serial Southern California divorce, my parents didn’t do me, the bastard no one wanted, any favors: abandoned at eight, on my own at twelve, incarcerated at fifteen… I’ve done everything I was ever asked to do, and I’ve been fucked. Stuff your fucking “anxiety” up your ass.
I don’t want to hear any of your candy-assed bullshit.