So it turns out my camera store has some sort of scam going, because a quick call to Canon (thank you Brian) reveals that for no cost at all, they will open up my camera and have a look-see, CALL me with an estimate, and then I can choose whether to go through with the repair or not. And yet, the store told me it would be a $160 flat rate? What's up with that? Of course, I was drooling over the PowerShot G3 today and maybe, just maybe, there's a little part of me that hopes it's too expensive a fix so I can buy a new camera. But that would be silly.
The Sobig virus has made an appearance on my computer 4 times tonight. God bless Norton Anti-Virus. Let's be careful out there.
Speaking of Nervous Parents, I stumbled across this ad in my monthly neighborhood flyer:
Is it time to babyproof your home? Call Austin Babyproofing Company today!
I especially like the text on the first page, which goes something like this:
What is Austin Babyproofing Company?
YOUR CHILD WILL DIE! YOUR CHILD WILL DIE! YOUR ONLY HOPE IS TO PAY US LOTS OF MONEY TO SAVE YOUR CHILD!
Oh, er, to answer your actual question, Austin Babyproofing Company is blah blah blah...
I have no dog food. This is bad. I am home alone with three children tucked all snug in their beds, I can't leave the house, and tomorrow these dogs are going to be eating the baby if I don't do something about it. And really, they'd be perfectly within their rights. So anyway, if you're in the neighborhood and you wouldn't mind dropping off a bag of Iams on the front porch tonight, I'd be so grateful.
It's been a strange day, and I have so much news, but I'm not ready to share just yet. However, I will tell you that the boys and I saw a rainbow today on our way back from school (if ONLY I had that digital camera! Ack!), and maybe that's not enough for YOU to go on, but as far as I was concerned it was a sign. And I felt instantly OK about the whole thing.
Texas is good for fried green tomatoes, which I had today, and abundant iced tea served everywhere with abundant lemon slices. Texas is not good for fire ants, which made a midnight snack of my right foot a couple nights ago as I was innocently standing, barefoot, in my back yard playing ball with my dog. I'm sorry, but I grew up in Massachusetts where running barefoot through the grass wasn't some sort of pretty storybook fantasy, it's what we DID. I also have some issues with the heat, but having lived in Wisconsin and suffered through the other extreme, I suppose I'll keep my mouth shut.
Nighty-night. I'm off to book-land.