Yesterday I wrote a response to Tracy Smith's Letter to the Editor in The Auroran that apeared last Tuesday. I wrote it twice.
After I sent the first one, I checked the file to make sure it went.
There was no trace.
I gave it time.
Still it remained hidden.
I re-wrote and sent it once more into the breech. .
Checked the file again.
The second vanished as well.
I e-mailed and asked had the editor received either missive.
He had both.
He asked which I wanted to use.
The second I said.
It was slightly more pointed in the re-write.
The kerfuffle severely shook my confidence in my competence with the computer. Of course it's my fault. Computers don't err.
Although it has been erratic for days.
Time is always later than shown..
Various windows pop up unbidden.
Other weird things happen too numerous to mention
This morning, it occurred to me. the sent file gas never been emptied.
Maybe it's chock- a- block.
Or full to the brim.
Or burgeoning at the bottom .
I scrolled back to the beginning.
And there my astonished gaze beheld yesterday's two missing e-mails at a date in 2010.
My Lord, I thought, I've created a time machine.
I fixed the clock without knowing why it went awry.
I shall phone my grand-daughter and seek advice about how to deal with the quirky sent folder.
Then, perhaps,I can turn my attention to writing a new post.
It's possible that somewhere not far, someone, not unfamiliar, has fashioned a wax shape of my computer and is furiously sticking it with pins.
It's a good thing I don't believe in that stuff.
If worst comes to worst, I shall buy a lap-top and keep on trucking.