Blogger is playing up again. I read a post from Pixie Mum and wanted to comment on it. But it seemed that I wasn’t signed in to my google account. So I sighed, went to my old Blogger blog, found I was signed in there, went back – and no. So I left a comment with my name Z and this website and nothing happened, so I don’t know if it was accepted or not.
I checked various Blogger blogs and I was signed in as Z on some of them and others I wasn’t, including Tim’s, where I couldn’t leave a comment until he opened them up to the hoi polloi. This made no sense at all. I couldn’t do a thing about it. There’s a sign-in link and when I clicked on it, I was signed in and when I went back, I wasn’t. I’ve written to tell them but it’s quite possible it’s just a blip and it’ll be put right.
Anyway, darlings. It’s the sort of wasted half hour or more that makes you feel you’ve achieved nothing all day. But here’s a blog post of sorts.
Tim and I were talking about alcohol, which makes a change from drinking it. My family always had wine on the table at every meal (except breakfast, obvs. That was my grandmother and she came to a sticky end) and I was welcome to a glass from my early teens. That wasn’t Tim’s family experience and I suppose my family took the Continental model.
It was always dry wine and quite uncompromising and I didn’t like it much in those days. No danger of me having more than the occasional glass when i wanted to feel sophisticated/ But I’ll tell you all about my drinking experiences tomorrow, because I’ve realised it may take some time and this post is quite long enough already.