Waiting. . . .

The new PC is supposed to be delivered today. They don't give you a time of day; just a date. Somebody needs to be home to accept delivery. Somebody is me. So I am puttering around the house waiting for the Fed-Ex guy. At the moment I am, as you can see, blogging. On the old machine. Now that we have laid out the big bucks for a new machine the old one has decided to taunt me by working flawlessly. At least the assorted other odds and ends - monitor, keyboard, and so forth - don't have to be replaced. Small mercies.

It is once again hotter than the hinges of hell today. And we are still surrounded by fires. Miles away, thank God. No danger at all here. But we can see and occasionally smell the smoke. (Here's what it would look like if you were a NASA satellite.) And this little office where The Inn is typed - the hub of the blogging universe - is still not air-conditioned. Maybe someday after we have it re-wired. I believe electricity was something of an after thought in this neighbourhood. Our contractor appears to have believed it to be a passing fad.

This is the sort of idle rambling that kills a blog's readership. So they tell me. I suppose I should be more careful about that.

[Note to self: Avoid blogging when you have nothing much to say and are merely passing the time while waiting in the heat for the Fed-Ex guy.]