Cold House, True Love

I guess my life isn't interesting or expensive enough because I have joined that group of Booklikers with furnace problems. The blower has died. The heat is there but no way to force it. Sigh.


About 10 days ago my phone, the zombie, disappeared. You might remember I blogged here about its return from the (almost) dead. I was out running errands and somewhere it just slithered out of my bag and scuttled off.


It had been ailing again and I was trying to nurse it along until the holiday specials started appearing but it knew its days were numbered and chose to leave me before I found a suitable replacement.


I figure one of two things happened:  it crawled away to die alone under an electrical outlet in a quiet corner OR it turned feral and is now hiding behind potted plants in crowded office buildings and is leaping out and gnawing on the ankles of iPhone users.


After enjoying three days of phone-free existence, three glorious phone-free days, I went online and phone shopped. I had thought to buy a basic cheapie and still wait for the sales but I was seduced by a handsome, smooth-ringing number.


I didn't want to wait for shipping so I went to Best Buy and there it was- My Precious.  Out of the box I love this phone. I am now shopping for a shock-proof case, maybe several because it should have its choice. I have loaded an (for me) obscene amount of apps on it.


I can do sooooo much on My Precious.


Now, if it could only figure out how to fix the furnace.



So handsome, so intelligent.