And that is why the quill and quire are mightier than the modern method. The night before last I was preparing to dictate a missive to the woman (not pontificate, as she will have it) and the damnable machine just shut itself off and refused to waken. Some sort of torsion or colic-related ailment is my guess. Even the experts could not get it to respond. So, we have a new writing machine which Herself is trying to cajole into working mode. Even on one of her brighter days she can barely operate one of those Bic pens so please bear with me.
I have a request for my dear readers. She has, not surprisingly, lost my electronic mail account and cannot remember my exact address. She knows it starts with Sheaffer (what a brilliant feat of deduction) but can't quite remember the rest. Could one of you who has corresponded with me through that method please remind her of the address. I know - I'm embarrassed for her too. Not surprised, just embarrassed. Of course, this is someone who treks out to the barn for some reason known only to herself and then stands there massaging her forehead and saying "Sheaffer, why did I come out here?" As if I can read what passes for her mind!
None of us equines is having memory difficulties. Every morning we remember the newly opened grazing area and gallop off in the fall fog to begin our daily feast. Unfortunately, the grass knows winter is creeping up on us and has gone into hibernation. We will indulge ourselves until the last blade is gone and then have to make do with the pittance she allows us.