The teenager, to celebrate the end of the last HCS paper, sat up half the night on the computer, playing games. This would have been fine except she never closes the protective keyboard lid and that Zoe, the Purr-fect Tarot-cat, deciced that it was a night for rebellion (sitting on the computer-desk) and hairball-management, resulting in cat-vomit all over the keyboard. The computer was less than ideally happy, so here I am, stealing time on somebody else’s computer to say that normal service will be resumed as and when I manifest a new keyboard.
Not … happy … Jan.
(Gifts of working keyboards gratefully accepted)