The Laptop of Luxury.....

There has been a new addition to my family! No - I have not become a granny - but have adopted a beautiful (hopefully non-bouncing!) baby Apple G4 iBook! It’s so shiny! So pretty! So CUTE!!!! I too can sit around in cafes in Vienna, and look like a sophisticated writer as I tap out my journal online........ Little do they know I'll probably be playing Solitaire......

One thing becomes immediately apparent as I type - or try to...... I need a manicure in order to stop hitting two keys at once! Secondly, I’m going to have to use a bigger font to type in, or risk getting greasy marks on the screen from my nose. I guess I could always affix some binoculars to my specs......

I am however, somewhat disgruntled that it doesn’t appear to want to know my broadband modem, so am now resigned to spending the dosh I saved by purchasing this shiny cute thing in a sale, on an Airport Wireless set-up...... Where’s a geek when you need one!?

Cue Geek.

After ferreting through the ads in a local rag, I appropriate said geek, who performs an expensive, but ultimately successful introductory service between stand-offish new lappy and a snazzy new wireless router thingummajig, and the pair are now firmly united. I can now use TWO computers at once - very confusing! - and am happy as a pig in the proverbial poo that I can sit in bed and access the weird wild web with my feet up!

The laptop of luxury indeed!

Elb in a lather.......

Some folk get excited at the prospect of a foreign holiday. Others find that new clothes float their boat.

Not me.

What do I get in a lather about? A new washing machine.

It has been so long since I could toss my laundry into the belly of the beast in my kitchen, that the mere prospect of a replacement machine is enough to send me into raptures. I drool over examples on the internet before choosing instead to rent one via a local dealer, as I plan to refit my manky kitchen before long, and may want to incorporate one into the units.... A nice young man delivers a brand new machine within a day of my plea, and removes its defunct predecessor after much huffing, puffing and swearing under his breath, (for my benefit) before manouevring the young pretender into place. I gleefully sign my name to the six-month contract, hand over a cheque and virtually push the guy out the door, so eager am I to play with my latest toy!

Washing day has never been so eagerly anticipated, and my bedroom becomes a whirling tornado of unwashed garments as I frantically sort whites from coloureds in a frenzy of laundry-based racism. Basket piled high, I risk life and limb by attempting to teeter blindly down the stairs, but realise this may be somewhat foolish and resort to hurling the laundry over the banisters to land in a heap below. I resist the temptation to throw myself with gay abandon into the pile of smelly socks and other sundries, but gather the load to stuff into the gaping maw of the new machine. After carefully digesting the instructions, ("Open door, place washing inside drum. Close door".......) I add detergent, select the programme and stand back............

OH JOY!!!!! It works!!

The cat regards me with haughty disdain as I caper round my kitchen in paroxysms of delight, then hare off upstairs to sort the next load of washing. She obviously thinks I am off my trolley, whereas I am simply thankful for small mercies and vow that I will NEVER take my washing machine for granted again! As I watch the cat stretch lazily out for a snooze in the evening sunshine, I ponder that maybe I'll come back as a cat in the next life? After all, they seem to have a cushy life - sleep all day, chase a mouse or two, get fed and have no laundry worries whatsoever. Then I see my moggy making a meal out of washing her butt, and promptly change my mind................ Maybe not.