Our steadily failing technology (first the phone – thanks for the replacement Café del Nightmare – now the ethernet port on the Mac)is forcing us to return to the Old Ways of Doing Things.

Which is why I find myself sitting on the sofa over here, typing as hard as I like, instead of perched on a chair over there, delicately tapping the keys, desperately trying not to lose our interweb connection.

I have to say, I prefer it like this.

But this is just one of many backward steps we are making.

In a few weeks, we’re moving into this winter’s accommodation of choice: a beautifully decorated farmhouse with wood-burning stove, TV, bath (we’ve just survived a year without a bath! – us! – a year! – with no bath!) that is both remote and devoid of landline.

Yes, people. If you’re friends or family, it’s time to break out the pens, pencils, crayons and paper, and rediscover the joy of writing long hand.

This seems like a good time to mention a very bloggable moment from a few weeks ago: A friend asked if we still needed a place to stay over the winter, as she knew someone who needed people to house sit. Her Outdoors said we were sorted, thanks all the same. I’ll just show you a picture of it, our friend said (this is not the picture, but this is the place):


I couldn’t help thinking about The Shining, and Her Outdoors couldn’t stop thinking about two young kids, cats, a dog and expensive furniture.

We said no.

Still.

It’s nice to be asked.

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