THE LULU CHRONICLES
|Nellie Rose. She's two.|
Technology. I’m hanging on by a hair. I can feel the wave of it coming towards me and I’m going to either have to ride the wave or dive under it before it drowns me. It’s not that I can’t understand it, it’s that I simply no longer want to. I know what I need to know to get along and see no sense in knowing the difference between a broadband and a headband.
Gary was our resident techie. When he died, the music truly died around here. I can’t for the life of me figure out the password to get a CD to play from my computer through the wireless surround sound the Hubs has wired throughout the house. And, of course, it’s not really a CD at all, but rather some kind of airwave thingy that magically plays on iTunes through my computer. I’d give anything right now to take an album out of its cover and put it on the hi-fi turntable and gently place the needle on the vinyl. (I know, for those under 45, you have no clue what I just said.)
I miss my husband on many levels and in many, many ways. He was my shelter in a storm, my warmth against the cold, my strength when I was lacking. He was also my resident electrician, handyman, computer expert, picture hanger, and lawn guy. I discover new losses with each passing day.
The Hubs would have been tickled to see Nellie’s curly head pop up on his iPhone. That would’ve been right up his alley. I was pretty pleased myself. So, what did my granddaughter want when she called? She wanted to show me her new potty. It’s a big, red, ladybug thingy. She’s thrilled with it. So thrilled, she wanted me to see her potty on it. I did. The Jetsons would have been speechless.