Deep Doodah

Oh good grief.  I was in it up to my knees yesterday when I needed to use the computer and found that I'd been invaded by PUPs (whatever they are).  These evil PUPs had destroyed my connection to Mozilla Firefox, the browser I've used for years.  Aaarrgh!  Mozilla "support" is virtually nonexistent.  What to do?  I contacted a nice young man at HughesNet, who hooked me up with Chrome, another browser, but a bunch of my stuff has been lost.  It was an adventure this morning to try to find my way around Chrome just so I could write today's entry.  Any typist will tell you that using the keyboard is as much memory motion as thought, and now I've got to really concentrate on where I'm going and what I'm doing.  Ratchafratch.

Before the PUPs appeared, I'd spent several hours on the DMV website, taking all 17 of their sample tests in preparation for the biggie, the real test to renew my license (having gotten clearance from the eye doc).  You know what threw me for a loop?  The blasted road signs.  I've been driving for 64 years.  I see a road sign and obey whatever it says.  "What signs are blue with white letters?  What shape is a stop sign?  Is a Yield sign an upside down triangle or right side up?"  Heck, I don't know.  If it says yield, I give oncoming traffic the right of way.  In all those 64 years, I've never received even a parking ticket (knocking on wood here) and I've logged a bajillion miles over time. 

Okay, enough of the ranting.  Nature, quick-change artist that she is, brought the temperature up to nearly 80 yesterday.  I can't remember the last time I opened the door to go out for barn chores and left it open all day, or the last time I popped a sweat while weeding.  After Beau's work with the mower, I was feeling pretty guilty about the raggedy herb garden, so stop to pull a patch every time I walk by.  No sense overdoing it.  The chickens are reaping the benefits because I toss them a handful of fresh greens every day now, just opening the gate and throwing it in because of Stanley and his rotten attitude.  How I miss Pick Me Up Peggy, Tattletale Tessie, and gentle Leonard, those long-gone affectionate chickens from the past.

My friend Arden is coming by today and, joy!, Deb texted that she, Craig, and Craig's brother Randy are coming up on Saturday to do some yard work.  Am I blessed or what?!  The preeminent job at hand is propping up the board fence along the driveway.  The posts have rotted out at the base and the darned thing is threatening to fall over and block the drive, and wouldn't that be a mess.  What would I do without my worker bees?

It's light enough now to see it's going to be another good day, unless Nature changes her mind later.  With company coming, I'd better dust.