I’m writing my first blog post from my new iPad.
This is decidedly too much technology for me. My husband is wisely sitting back and letting me figure it out. My kids keep wanting to help. Evidently, all that playing on devices at the apple store is some dear education I could’ve used.
It was the last gift behind the tree.
It reminded me of another Christmas, maybe 1988? I wanted a Cabbage Patch doll just like every other girl who loved Xavier Roberts in the United States. It was the first time, but not the last time, my parents would pull the “all done! …oh, wait… here’s one more,” trick. It was a surprisingly similar feeling today when my husband pulled out one that said, “from your four biggest fans”.
You see, I may have mentioned before that I have bad luck with computers. Even as I write this I imagine my super smart iPad contemplating that sentence and learning how to fear.
Yes, my last computer had been getting worse. I will speak of it in the past tense with malice and forethought. For starters, the battery was a dud. If it was unplugged I had about three minutes to run it to its charger before shutdown. I can’t tell you how many revisions and edits this cost me when I thought the computer was plugged in, but found out otherwise when my document went black and shut down.
Also, it ran really hot. You couldn’t hold it in your lap, it was so hot. I could feel cancer being made within my thighs. It would get so hot it would shut down to cool off. This was happening more and more frequently.
It had gotten worse to the point three weeks ago when the screen would go black after a short use. I would turn it off and turn it back on again and sometimes it would come up and sometimes it wouldn’t.
Last week I desperately had to send a document that lie solely in the hard drive of my petulant lap-heating computer. It wouldn’t come on and wouldn’t come on until my husband brilliantly put it in the freezer. It came on just long enough for me to send my e-mail.
I didn’t think I’d be getting anything like this for Christmas. I was mentally preparing myself to write my next book on legal pads. That’s how I wrote my first one. I remember my Dad saying, “Barbara, promise me you’ll never do that again.”
I promised. Copying that book out from my handwriting was a task I didn’t want to duplicate. I’m so glad I don’t have to. Blog props to my spouse and my kids who believe in me enough to sponsor my writing addiction.
My husband said, “It was just so sad watching you over there, writing your blog posts on your little phone.” One finger is not ideal, writing should be all fingers and elbows and energies flowing down to all points in contact with the board.
So, now it’s time to write my four biggest fans a story.