Pinkies? Like the little vole babies under the sons' beds, in the cabinet drawers, under the wood pile, hidden in the laundry, inside that boot on the floor ---------------------------------------
We've got sun here, Sour, but I think we are living under a cursed cloud nonetheless. In the last few weeks, several things have gone kaflooey, some in odd ways. My car was doing some bizarre things electronically - the gauges had this weird dance they would do when I started the engine, and the lights associated with the 4-wheel-drive would flash randomly - which turned out to be a bad cell on the battery. Anyway, we replaced the battery and the nonsense stopped. Just got that straightened out, and the blower fan for the clothes dryer self-destructed. Everybody Critter talked to about it was flabbergasted that the fan had gone - that sort of thing just doesn't happen! My very handy Hubby downloaded a pirated copy of the repair manual for the thing, got the parts numbers, ordered the necessary parts to fix it, and now I have a functional dryer again. Yesterday, our desktop raised a big stink, then quit. No amount of screaming, threats, pleading or tears would persuade it to start again. The repair shop says it'll take about $500 to fix it ("Gentlemen, we can rebuild him; we have the technology. We can make him stronger than before, faster . . .") - in other words, we're looking at a new tower. At the moment, I'm using a rather elderly and verrrry laggy laptop that pauses frequently as I type. I'm in a "NOW what?" frame of mind; almost afraid to breathe and waiting for the next thing to mess up. So how about it? Have I offended anyone? Any ideas who might have put a curse on me, and what I must do to lift it?
Pinkies? Like the little vole babies under the sons' beds, in the cabinet drawers, under the wood pile, hidden in the laundry, inside that boot on the floor ---------------------------------------