Posted on: February 25, 2012

Okay, so now what. I really don’t NEED another photo programme. Now I have two I don’t need. I have my photos already to be uploaded. Picasa wants to eat all of my photos. I really must say I was completely unimpressed with the way it starts.

You download it. Install it. (It disappears; you go back, chose ‘run’ this time, because, YES, I do remember where I installed it.) Choose to open it. An interface comes up.



Uhm, really? Those are my ONLY two choices? Well, okay, let’s choose ‘most’ and see what happens… 


This programme is hungry and greedy! It wants EVERYTHING! Over two-hundred FOLDERS later; (I have NO idea how many files!) It said it had finished raping my computer.

After having a heart-attack, and coming to, I began to see what I could do about this invasion! Do NOT click ‘delete’. This programme has not only ‘searched’ the files it has eaten them up. Deleting means GONE! (Thankfully I’m anal about each step so I checked first, before deleting them all!)

Okay, so, delete; go to recycle bin; restore to original point. Two hundred times…ARE THEY KIDDING ME?

There has to be a simpler way. Okay. Calm down. Read the choices again… Hmmm… O-kay, this might do: Delete FROM Picasa. Close eyes, click. Check. YIPPEE!

Two hundred times? Are they serious?

Yes, they are. Two hundred times, to get control of what I did not want to give up to begin with.

I have my photo editor. It’s pretty good, too. I do NOT want my photos uploaded to the ‘web’ where they’ll be ‘safer’. (Or much more easily accessible.) I wish to upload one damn picture. JUST ONE! Well to start with. I do hope to upload more later; but if I can’t get one to work the way I need it to, then I certainly don’t want to load thousands that I don’t want.

Breathing easier and blood pressure falling to within acceptable range. Okay. I have control of my files again. Now what? How do I get that ONE photo in here? The only options seem to be all or none. Or, grab one from the web. I have heard of others mastering this task. I really am not as blonde as I may look. (Well, my hair is but my brains ain’t…usually!)

Oh, okay. it wants to freeze. Okay. I’ll wait. Take a nap. Make and enjoy dinner. Watch a few cartoons; I want escape NOT reality! Check. Nope. Okay. Hibernate computer. Wait an hour; Unhibernate… Okay… It’s doing something; I’ll give it a few more minutes.

Hubby and son return with the news that grandma’s still alive, but it won’t be more that 48-hours.

I’m not surprised. She is not a well woman. I don’t mean to sound callous. We’ve been through this at least once a year, for the past twenty years. I’m grateful for the extra time she’s been granted. I’m not sure she’s used it to any advantage; she sits on the sofa day in and day out bemoaning the fact that no one visits.

No one visits because they now have little children and her place is NOT SAFE. And she refuses to accept this. So, for the sake of their infants and toddlers they keep them away; visiting on special occasions only. People DO visit. Everyone, in fact. Her children. Her grandchildren. (Not the aforementioned great-grandkids; at least not once per month.)

We are grossed out. She is not a clean woman. No, I don’t think you understand. She is a filthy person with last night’s supper visible on her house-dress, which she hasn’t changed since her bath. Oh, no, wait. She changes it once a week so the home-support THINKS she’s had a bath. She hasn’t had a bath since her last visit to the hospital.

Yes, gross. Hence the infrequent, short visits. And the scrubbing and laundry when we get home! *shudder*

She is a lonely woman, who has never worked or volunteered in her life. She never leaves home except to go to the hospital; to the doctor’s (maybe). She LOVES gardening! She thinks her gardens should be award winning. If she could keep on top of the weeds. She used to be able to. About forty years ago. Yup, she’s old. My husband was an ‘oop’s baby’; something she takes care to mention every time she sees us. He is as old as his sibling’s kids; younger in the case of one.

Sorry, I guess I am just wondering how I will react if she dies this time. I mean, I will be sorry. But I’m not sure exactly WHAT I’ll be sorry for.

Sorry that she wasted her life?; sorry for the lonely existence she’s forced on her husband?; sorry that she’s gone? I just don’t know.

Death doesn’t bother me. I have a philosophy; “You are born; you live; you die…the end.” It’s the, “YOU LIVE” part that can be so frustrating. Or exciting. Or exhilarating! You are not promise ANYthing in life, except the chance…

The chance?

The chance. You are presented choices. Each one a new discovery. You accept or not. Some you can change your mind on; others, you are stuck with. At the end there are no more choices. It’s too late and you begin to understand this. No more, “What if’s”; “If only’s.” It’s over baby. (For those who may want to send a whole lot of philosophies: I fully, completely, one-hundred-percent believe in John 3:16 KJV; choices.)

End of my mush…

Will I miss her? Yes; maybe. I do love her. I will cry, so I guess I will miss her.

Now…back to Picasa…

Maybe tomorrow, if you don’t mind. If I don’t return, please understand, she probably died and it may be a few days.


luv khrys…


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