I am admitting I need help.
There you have it, brave don’t you think? As we trundled through town the husband suggested I pay pound notes, scones and any other enticements to get me clued up, in the technological kind. And kind is how whoever is brave enough to take me on will have to be. My trouble is I limp along just about getting by. Then that horrible Mr Google throws in a googly. Yes, I am still chuntering on about this comment as google account carry-on. My trouble is, brace yourself, big confession coming up, I pretend I know what folk are talking about when they try to help!
As we strolled into the computer shop I plaintively appealed for help.
‘Yes, we can help you with your little computer problems!’ the fresh, smooth cheeked chap said. Got my doubts he will be the same as he staggers out from the old homestead after an intensive twenty three and a half hour lesson. Half hour off for lunch obv.
Another view of the Wrenery.
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