There's no new story tonight, but I do have a very good reason. The boy, obviously wanting an end to my eternal computer problems, has bought me a MacBook and I've spent all evening familiarising myself with it.
It's a bit like a guy buying his wife a car with automatic transmission because he thinks she's not a good enough driver to handle a manual gearbox.
But I can't really blame him. Without going so far as to accept any responsibility for the various ailments my desktop computer and newish laptop have respectively suffered, I can freely admit that my frequent sighs of exasperation were something he could do without.
It arrived today, as a late Mothers Day present. It's slim, it's lightweight and it's elegant. It's got a touchpad instead of a tiny, furry, red knob, and it promises a foolproof (in every sense of the word) computer experience. So far, so good - I've managed to install Office, set up my email account, take some highly unflattering photos of myself (I have crow's feet!) and adjust the clock to local time, all without calling for help. The next steps will be to migrate my entire cyber-life from the two older computers, to this one. Don't hold your breath.