Who ever mentioned Hoover?

Anybody following the fortunes of my hoover may have read that it was left in a state of suspended animation, and lurking in a cupboard. Then I fell off the filter- loss helpline, deciding that a bit of absorbing paper might do the trick.
Putting it in the filter slot, I was firm with its owner. 'You know, my friend, you want to be careful. When we'd a hotel, we'd your industrial cousins. We were surprised that it was only after persistent nagging at the shop where they went for a service, that they were returned - in three small bags, the rest having come in handy for spare parts. If you're not careful,' I lowered my voice, 'you too could become a donor, now...' I stepped on the starter- pedal. 'Go!' .
Plainly, the machine was listening. Oh! How we roared about the house, cornering at speed, accelerating on the straight and cutting a swathe of cleanliness throughout. I swear there was a line-up of things wanting to fly up the feeder hose. The strange thing was that they did, but not out the other end. It did save emptying the dust container, but eventually curiosity won. I tried to look down the tube. Saw nothing.
Apparently the things in it were having such a nice time there, they'd bonded. Despite lures including grappling hooks, bamboo canes, and manly pressure on a broom handle to the accompaniment of my old  midwife- mantra call, 'Push!' the tube's contents refuse to budge. There they remain. Maybe a Stanley knife or water hose will encourage them out.

In the meantime, what goes up, must go down eh? Not in this house.


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My less than beautiful Hoover.Part One.

I've an uneasy relationship with technology. I can't understand why things which don't work don't respond to the threat of a hammer or spanner. Recently I bought a hoover which promised it would do everything but write a cheque. Anyway, these days, that's so last year, it seemed a trifling consideration.
To begin with and in a roar not unlike a jet taking off, my hoover and I set about the house. The machine refused nothing but the electric blankets. It swallowed the attached cords without a murmur, scooped up nuts, screws and bolts with ease and set about enough house dust and fluff to start a compost heap.
Determined to look after this new gadget I read the instructions and learnt that the machine's efficiency relied on regular and proper cleaning of its filters. Dear Reader, I confess to making a diary note as to when the filter needed washing.See? I meant business!
Driven by this new found enthusiasm for getting things right, I duly washed one of the the filters- hung it somewhere safe to dry. So safe in fact, that I now can't remember where I put it.
I shall continue this tale once I get off the hoover help-line queue.
www.janeyeadon.co.uk

Jane Yeadon - Telling Tales: My Beautiful Computer.

Jane Yeadon - Telling Tales: My Beautiful Computer.: I'm trying to be positive about computers today. Thus the title. However, it's hard thinking of anything that is presently so obstru...



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www.janeyeadon.co.uk

My Beautiful Computer.

I'm trying to be positive about computers today. Thus the title. However, it's hard thinking of anything that is presently so obstructive, it makes the idea of cleaning the lavvy seem a more attractive alternative.
When computers first came to our workplace, I figured it was just a passing concept- as ephemeral as the word. However, computers are here to stay and at least I've learnt some things helpful about them.
Shift isn't a way to get you to move from your seat and a mouse can be friendly unless cornered.
Now- about the lavvy----




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www.janeyeadon.co.uk

A Creative Weekend.

Badaguish Outdoor Centre is easy to find if you take the road to Glenmore from Aviemore. Whilst the self- catering, here is affordable, the views of the Cairngorms are free.There's still snow on the higher slopes,and sometimes,when the light catches on them, it makes them grin with a clear tight menace.
No such threat came from our  forWords writing group,visiting the Centre last weekend. Inspiration, helped by a visit from author Alan Bissett made for lively discussion. We're all now back on the literary road, and as fortified as the Bagaduish bottle bank was.

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www.janeyeadon.co.uk

Treasurer's tale.

And here I was thinking that the role of treasurer would be a simple easy way to support Forres's For Words writing group. And so, for the main part, it has been. The occasional trip to the post office to bank the money, fit in a wee chat with the girls behind the counter on the important things of life (holidays, cat health, their health, life, the universe) has meant I've felt smug in an unaccustomed state of financial efficiency.
However, come the A.G.M and a  formal  report  is needed. Apparently something handwritten on a post it note is unacceptable as is something not on EXCEL.
It's not that there hasn't been plenty of  advice but when the computer expert chairman gets a far off look in his eye, you kinda get the message, there's a steep learning curve ahead.
Several days later with a certain amount of medicinal fortification, I reckon I've cracked the code. With a flourish, I press the print button and am asked if I want the 56 pages printed.


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www.janeyeadon.co.uk

My Beautiful Porta-Cabin.

I see Elgin's Moray College are leaving their Forres portacabin premises. It doesn't quite rate as a historical building but I imagine, its thin walls could still tell a story or two. It's been a well used place,and thanks to the College tutors, has, for a good number of years moved the scary world of computers into everyday use by everyday people.
The library was once based here. I'm unsure if it was Mrs Angus who was in charge, but she had all the regal manner of someone who'd be the first line in command if a bomb dropped. There was neither computer, printer or photo-copier. Instead, Mrs Angus's stamp seemed to do the job and sometimes when I pass the building I listen for the sound of it. I wonder what she'd make of the present library's ability to send its users digital book.
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Visit my website at:
www.janeyeadon.co.uk