At the Window

"The woman came again with daffodils
She set a jar on the sill"

(George Mackay Brown).

Every bunch of daffodils we buy to brighten up the house is different. Although I call them daffodils, strictly speaking I suppose, they are different species of narcissi. The ones I placed on the window sill this morning are the frou frou variety with lots of frilly petals while last week's ones had a simple arrangement of petals.

If all arrangements were simple how pleasurable life would be. Instead we inhabit a world of tricky technology which is understood by the young, but not necessarily by the elderly TV licence dodgers.

His Lordship is in receipt of a new state of the art Printer/Scanner/ Copier which communicated beautifully wirelessly or via a USB cable with his Computer when demonstrated in the shop, but refuses to hold a conversation wirelessly in the Dower House and will only oblige with a USB cable, although not even that, if scanning is involved.

Relations are becoming strained as we try to figure out why, and at last HL has agreed to call in outside help in the form of a young neighbour, who is confident that he can help. I sincerely hope so because I have had enough. It is bad news when my technology breaks down, but it's ten times worse to hear the language from behind The Door when HL's breaks down.