It’s a gray and rainy day here. Tonight, the temperatures are going to plummet and I may have to face reality – never easy – and let my porch plants go. There are too many 18 degree nights coming up for me to continue to cover them. It seems colder here than it usually is in early November. I hope that isn’t an ill omen for the coming winter.
I spent hours and hours yesterday trying to figure out my photo editing dilemma. Too involved to explain, but at the end of the day, I had a newer version of Lightroom and I succumbed to Adobe’s (the creator) required new subscription servic. Even though I owned my version of LR outright, having paid for it years ago, it is no longer supported by Adobe (which means they leave us no choice) and Apple is also going to stop supporting apps that have 32 bits rather than 64 bits. Just in case you think I know what that means, I don’t. I only know I got a warning from Apple the other day saying it would soon be impossible to use on my computer. And then I screwed up royally on something else to do with editing which made for a lot of hassles. I had to make the decision whether to upgrade to something that would eventually not work or bite the bullet and upgrade to a better solution now. Oh, and I upgraded to the wrong plan, had to cancel it, and then subscribe to the right plan. This took up most of the day.
Oy.
At the end of the day I was sore from hunching over my keyboard.
Don is still under the weather. On Sunday, when we went to the bookstore, he was feeling better. Yesterday and today, he feels worse. Chest colds are such a pain in the tush. Or more aptly, the head and chest.
I’m currently reading Gaudy Night by Dorothy L. Sayers. For some reason, I’ve never read any Sayers, even though I’ve always known about her and well remember watching the BBC/PBS series from 1987 about Harriet Vane and Peter Wimsey. It starred Edward Petherbridge and Harriet Walter, both of whom were wonderful. Years later, I had the chance to meet Petherbridge (such a lovely man) and see Harriet Walter on stage in London. And – in life’s strange twists – Walter eventually ended up marrying Guy Paul, a friend of ours who was the original Grinch in the stage production of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, which premiered at the Old Globe Theater (and also starred my husband.)
As always, it’s a small world.
Back to the book…it’s wonderful! What a stylish writer Sayers was! I’m deep into it and am enjoying it very much.
I’m also about to start a nonfiction memoir that I will be reviewing next week: Body Leaping Backward: Memoir of a Delinquent Girlhood by Maureen Stanton.
There’s a lot on my plate including a couple of days of coaching in the next few weeks. I have to do some prep work.
Happy Tuesday.
