So the good news is: Hubby successfully doctored the hypochondriac that is our printer. It’s been malingering for weeks, protesting plaintively that its innards were suffering from a major paper feed malaise, when all that was actually causing the jam was a microscopic spec of paper on a sensor. Bloody thing.

The fabulous news is: my laptop arrived.

It’s second hand and, ummm, cosmetically past its best, but when you fail to return to work after maternity leave, you tend to be a tad impoverished and distinctly less picky about appearances. Consequently, I don’t give a rat’s arse what condition it’s in, as long as it permits my chilly person to abandon the freezing office (single radiator, controlled by central heating, programmed by frugal hubby, who conserves his personal heat better than a woolly sodding mammoth) and spend my winter evenings in the living room (single radiator in a huge room; but also one woodburner which, fully stoked by wifey, can melt an average-sized polar cap into Slush Puppie in minutes) perched comfily in my long-coveted Dutailier.

The wifey-piles do prefer soft upholstery when they can get it, but my immersion in the blogosphere has been the cause of some solitary office suffering this summer.

Cough. Annnnnnnd moving right along, the bad news is: the new laptop appears to have router issues, and refuses to actually… route, or whatever the damn things are supposed to do. Despite much cajoling, it will not find our Wifi. John has even attempted to hack into borrow next door’s Wifi – what explanation he was planning to give had the neighbours spotted him standing among the hens with the laptop, I cannot think – but nada.

The crap news is: our office PC has become even more unstable than our child’s newly-acquired locomotive skills, and needs brutally attacking with a fucking great axe Windows re-installing. Should I disappear for a time, I will not… probably… have fallen critical illness insurance victim to a murderous hubby, but rather, will be baffled by a malevolent box of failing electronic junk. Hubby is grinding his teeth over Bradford and Bingley though. And the Halifax. Sigh. I feel we may not be holidaying anywhere at all this year; Hubby will be even more jumpy about expenditure than ever. Can we come to your house? We have a caravan: just sling us a extension lead through the window, and we’ll be quite happy in your garden.

And finally, the uber fabulous news is that I have now lost count of Harry’s solo steps. He managed twenty-something this morning, triumphantly tottering right across his bedroom. I happily took him into town to be measured for his very first pair of proper shoes. And look what they gave us!

Bugger me if I didn’t cry.


8 Responses

  1. And bugger me too, but I’ve had a little cry of my own. My mother still HAS my very first shoes (white leather, with little pink roses, thank you for asking, and why yes, I was adorable, naturally).

    I swear whatever my bottom may have done to Bradford and Bingley (sat on it, probably, as it’s clearly broken in half) I haven’t touched the Halifax.

    Please do come to our house. We can park you in the yard and we have WiFi. And two bathrooms. For some ineffable reason. In a flat the size of a cupboard.

  2. More than welcome at my place too although how you’ll get that caravan across, I’ll be buggered if I know.

    Congrats oh gorgeous Harry. It was clearly my cyber-hug that made the difference.

    And technology problems? Sobbing along in frustration with you here…still on creaky, antique laptop and internet broke completely on Sunday night. There’s obviously a disturbance in the Force at Villa Kore.

  3. My Mum still has mine and my brothers first shoes, we found them when we did out the loft in preparation for selling the house. Any bets on when that will actually happen?

  4. Your posts never fail to either make me laugh out loud or tear up, or frequently both. Although you might have a bit of an edge because Harry really resembles my own (1 1/2-year-old) son, mostly I think you just have a really excellent hand at turning a phrase. That, and your love for Harry shines through your posts so clearly. Please keep on blogging!

    That picture from the shoe shop is what made me all weepy this time. So adorable, that triumphant look, arms in the air. And the shoes, the shoes! Sniffle.

  5. Aww- the little mite is mobile on his feetsies.

    Boy are you in for sun in the supermarket now 😉



  6. I cried last time we were without internet for a day. No, I really did. I wasn’t even hormonal or premenstrual. I just cried. Like a spoilt, whiny baby without internet. I will no doubt do the same next time it fails us.

    I didn’t realise that Clarks did such things until P’s first shoes were already purchased. Damn missed opportunities!

  7. Your post made me cry as well, so must be your prose and that lovely picture of your beautiful boy! We suffered through hurricane Ike here in Texas and and currently half of our town is still without power, but to be honest the worst was to be without internet, as I felt totally isolated and alone. Amazing what not knowing what is going on in the world can go do a girl.
    On another note, sitting on my bookcase in the living room is a pair of Mary Janes, in black patent leather with a little mother of pearl button in the middle of a black grosgrain ribbon bow, my first shoes, saved my my mom all those years ago. So you did great to get that picture. It will be a keepsake for sure.

  8. I admit I cried a little seeing that photo. Way to go Harry!

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