I was chicken yesterday, as in coward. I was simply unable to face the computer problems caused by Celeste and unwilling to spend the time working with a tech to fix them. For the most part, those who work in tech support are sympathetic, patient, and helpful. For the most part. Somehow I had the feeling that this time I might get the same response when I'd say, "The cat did it," that I got when the squirrel ate the battery cable in the truck. "Bwahahaha!" echoes in my brain as the phone was passed from one insurance rep to another so I could tell my story over and over.
The best way I know to avoid the unpleasant is to read. Searching through my stash after chores, I found an unread book(!) and settled in. Settled in is the definitive term here. Bessie Anne has become obsessive about being in my lap whenever and as soon as I sit down. It does no good to explain that I'll be getting up in a minute. She must be in my lap now, forcing her way up onto the chair. She even demanded to be with me on the bench when we spent a short while out in the sunshine. Once seated, I'm in for the duration, nailed to the chair by a 50-pound dog across my lap. Celeste will appear from nowhere to become the cherry on the cake. She will either lie against my chest on top of Bess, squeeze in if there's room by my side, or stretch out lengthwise on my legs. Ralph makes periodic visits, but hasn't the patience to lie still for any length of time. Between the dog and a nearly 15-pound cat, believe me, I'm going nowhere. Consequently, I finished the book before barn chores at dusk. Pushing and shoving, I dislodged an unwilling Bess. Celeste can take a hint and leaves on her own. Stiff and staggering to my feet, it was time to take care of the critters before dark.
I'm going to have to put on a brave face today and deal with the computer. Crum.