On Christmas Day there was an obituary in the DMN with a photo of a woman wearing Mouseketeer ears. I loved the woman, even though she had been an Avon representative. It seemed to me she had anticipated the many formalities after her death as a whole lot of Mickey Mouse. She would be in Cosmic Disney World, and the rest of us would still be reading the local newspaper before lining the bottom of the birdcage!
I won't be running an obit for my computer mouse. It decided to visit the neon exercise wheel in the sky today at an inconvenient moment while I was working on my year-end inventory. My tech support sons were unable to revive the mouse with CPR or artificial respiration. We bargained for its soul with edam, gouda, jalapena jack, brie, havarti dill, swiss, and NY cheddar. Spells and incantations to the Device Manager and Installation Wizard were also unsuccessful. Right now I'm borrowing a cordless mouse (thanks to the Farmer's Wife Who Never Saw Such a Sight In Her Life).
This year I suffered from delusions of spreadsheet grandeur after learning to make rows and columns, and enter data (sort of). Still can't make the data do any tricks. The data is obviously not as smart as my aquarium fish. The fish at least know that they are likely to be fed when their light is turned on. The data refuses to do arithmetic gymnastics even though I have established the range in the field that needs to be added. =SUM(bad:headache). Bringing in a descendant consultant didn't help. Sending a history major to help an artist is the proverbial blind leading the blind. At least Jeff could supply colorful oaths from several epochs to the battle. I could only add dreamland welding equipment.
And now I am wondering about a commemorative Rosie the Riveter hamster collector's edition...
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