Yet another day...

Yet another day without any home internet; if I am lucky, I'll find some message from the delivery service in my snail mail box today, and can start organising things in a more reliable way.

It's irksome that way, but I guess it's a chance to show I'm really not 'addicted' to the online world. I don't think I'm addicted, anyway, or that any of us is -- not any more than some Victorian or Edwardian gentleman was addicted to his club. It would be have been irksome, too, if the club was closed for renovations and one would have to find somewhere else to go for lunch, newspapers, looking up thing in the Ecyclopaedia Britannica, and the conversation of like-minded people.

The one thing I'm really sorry for is if other people's plots are stopped for that reason: - I might be blocking the progress of the Anita Blake plot, the Kazic plot, or Sameth going through his canon, in Milliways. If you find a way to work around my absence, do go ahead!

Otherwise, we have beautiful sunny weather today, and the last two customers for the second catalogue of the year are done. We fired one -- sometimes, you do have to fire a customer, as one learns from Seth Godin's blog. We have nothing to fill that company's entry with, they simply don't deliver despite the fact that they're terribly charming on the phone and promise whatever we want; and records show that they've already played the same game once before, a few years ago. So, bye-bye: - do not want! The catalogue can go to print, and I can go and enjoy a bit of sun before it sets.-