Maybe I am getting the hang of these photos after all. I am still trying to work out how to get a satisfactory down load off the camera.
Prior to getting this new computer, I had Arcsoft Impressions, & it worked a treat. Currently I am using the hp programme, which came with the camera, & am not happy at how it works, so I am trying to get the hang of using Picasa.
We are having a visit today, from a Dog Whisperer.
For some time we have had trouble with Leo, having 'little accidents' in the house. Recently, he has become worse, & so the time for action has come. I have spoken to the Whisperer, & what he says makes perfect sense, so I am very hopeful we can have a positive outcome.
It is raining in a soft steady misty way. The actual temperature is much lower than it was yesterday, but I suspect the hideous humidity must be running at about 98%! My hair is dripping & any exertion results in further perspiration floods.
All my life I have suffered from extreme sweating of the hands & feet. I was born during the war, & the quality of the wool available to knit bootees- remember those?- was very poor. My mother said as fast as she knitted them, they shrunk badly, & she had to knit more.
My Beloved Brother has the same problem, but to a much lesser extent. My eldest son, has the same extreme as I do. It also affects our scalps, so we have a hard time keeping dry hair in the the humid summers in Australia.
When my granddaughter was little she once told me she had the same problem as me, with her wet hands. I was surprised as I had not noticed it before. Turned out she had sneaked off & wet her hands to trick me!
When I was at school I had problems with my work, due to sweat damage on the pages. I am left handed too, so the problem was made even worse. I would resort to using a blotter or a handkerchief, as a mop for the wet drips.
Imagine being a teenager & having a boyfriend who might want to hold your hand! The horror of it! Standing at the counter of a shop, trying to remember never to touch the counter, because wet hand prints will remain. Eyes would widen in shocked horror, at the little -or large- pool of sweat left behind.
When I learnt to drive a car, I was about 27, & had some professional lessons. I explained to the driving instructor, my problem. He laughed it off saying not to worry about it. He was rather laughing on the other side of his face, when he saw the pool of sweat left by the back of my legs on his driver's seat. Next time I took a towel with me, so sit on. There was nothing to be done about the saturated steering wheel!! I did dry it off with remaining dry corners of the towel.
When my children were babies, they would invariably be rather damp feeling when I had held them, in the summer time. It made my life an utter misery, at times, & I cursed the fate that gave the genetic fault. I also cursed the fact that my son has inherited the problem. Rest assured during the course of my life, no curse word has been left unused for the condition!
I feel that all this high humidity 'greases' the Speed of Stupidity, which is a wonderful concept I found over at Mike's. He has supplied the formula for working it out. I am not good with figures, but I will take his word for it, & am stunned I had not discovered this factor of life for myself.
I suspect this Speed of Stupidity, is also what strikes young males, whose testosterone levels add to the mix. They kill themselves off very efficiently, in bullet like vehicles. The pity is, they often also, kill off their mates, & girlfriends.
In other news I have some sort of asthma which is troubling me, & my chest at times sounds like squinting bagpipes.
Don't ask me how I know they are 'squinting'- I just do!
Some thing or some one, wakes me at 3am every morning, & once I have been woken up, I cannot for the life of me get back to sleep, so I often get up, & read.
This weather absolutely precludes any sort of hand craft or I could surely knit or stitch, in the wee hours.
The whine & wheeze of the chest alarms even me, at times. Since the dogs usually come out with me, they hear it too, but they seem to have got used to it now.
Eric Clapton, Tears in Heaven.