It’s a nightmare.
Hundreds of Apps waiting for download.
All of them lurking in cyberspace awaiting my feeble attempts at minimizing the tasks with which I am faced.
I gave it a google.
There they were.
One simple task…a grocery list
Two hours later I had attempted to use five different solution apps.
Paper and pencil would have netted a time expenditure of 3 minutes.
Perhaps I should stay with the old ways.
However, I must admit I love My Shopi. I can set my lists by store and by department. Way cool.
It has been unseasonably cool here in the Little Rock. This appears to be a repeat of last year. The swimming season may be short again. The kids who ventured into the pool last night looked a bit goose-bumped upon their return to the house. You go guys. Me? Not so much.
We’ve trimmed edges, cut grass and briars, lopped off branches, and burned a pile of all of it today. There is a lot to do on five acres and too little time to do it. So it all accumulates and you get to it when you can. We would probably do better if we had a few more tools. A tractor would be nice. If you see one looking for a home, please send it my way.
There’s something infinitely satisfying about doing this sort of work. It’s a respite for the soul. You can shut off the brain and just do the task. Leave all your worries behind. Sing it now!
And soon, I will venture into the madness that is Saturday afternoon in the shopping district. Oh woe. Perhaps the must-do will get done and the need-to can wait until the morrow.
Sarah and I saw The Millers Wednesday evening. I have to admit it was a chuckle.
But my favorite part of the week occurred on Friday. While working, I received a phone call from a sweetheart of a little old lady who was apparently a teacher in her working life. Her aunt had recently celebrated her 100th birthday. Needless to say Ms. Morris was excited. Aunt Bee is a gem. And so Ms Morris proceeded to tell me about the events preceding and following the 100th birthday celebration including but not limited to details about the state of Aunt Bee’s bowels and the house dress she wore for the picture. I was also clued in to the move to a rehab center, the state of her finances (they are really good), and Aunt Bee’s declarations of her age, followed by the number of days past 100, which she makes to anyone willing to listen.
It was a joy to talk to this woman. She kept me on the phone for quite some time and made my day.
The names have been changed to protect the innocent.