Ramblings

My mouse just got itself a new bachelor pad--lucky mouse.

Summertime; and the living is easy--not! Somehow I don't expect it was in Porgy's day either. My workplace dubbed Swift Owl by Amazon and it's Muggles survived a Harry Potter invasion--my own copy even arrived--now I await word of my $ 5.00 discount. Actually I can't complain too much about the delivery of my personal mail lately. However I'll await that coupon before I place another order with Amazon.

My correspondents seem to be lazing on the deck this summer as my inbox is conspicuous by it's emptiness lately. I've had at least half a dozen "Friend" requests in the last two weeks at My Space but none of them could be bothered to honour me with a letter in reply so I guess they weren't that interested. As I age I've been observing that there are fewer and fewer people around to remember that I have a birthday--if only my aching joints would allow me to forget it as well!

Spent several hours outside yesterday and lived to regret it last night and this morning as I nursed my aching sinuses.

Just received a call in response to a letter I wrote in January. That one can't be blamed on the Post Office--it was sent by E-mail! As we like to say at work, the letter can't be received until it is actually placed in the mail stream and it isn't read until it works it's way through the corporate mail system and gets opened. The most egregious example I've witnessed was an international priority letter that was sent registered mail to a hotel in India and returned to the sender 2 years later--and we think Canada Post is bad!

It's time for my afternoon nap. There's one thing reading has over watching TV--the story doesn't go on without you if you fall asleep and the commercials don't wake you either. Just as long as one can find one's bookmark and the page where one dropped off at.

Nap's over. Don't you hate playing telephone tag. What's the point of leaving a message on one of those infernal machines when you just know you'll be called back when you're out or attempting to nap.

Is this old curmudgeon suffering from shrinking brain syndrome--all he seems to be able to do is complain lately!