Window display in New Hope PA.
Dear Internet, and everyone who makes website pages and apps:
I don’t want your goddamn app. Nothing is more annoying than following a link on my iPhone, only to have the screen switch immediately to the appstore to download your shitty app. When that happens I close the appstore, and close the page I was attempting to read because OBVIOUSLY it is so inferior, so idiotic and so unworthy of my time that even YOU have decided a download is more important that viewing your article, page or site. If YOU don’t want me at your site, immediately routing me to the appstore, I certainly will not intrude again.
Consider me chased away.
Also, allowing me to load your site only long enough to redirect me elsewhere does not count as a page view or real traffic. So go eff yourself for your publishing FAIL.
An old bat who still codes html in notepad.
I didn’t really block these, I just ironed them. They are made with soft bamboo yarn. The square one is as big as a coaster, the round one as big as a plate.
One of the clients I voice commercials for, the Flower Station, sent loads of flowers for us to enjoy. Being a Dutch-American girl I knew which flowers to claim that are better than roses!
Someone has spammed the entire planet using my email address; I know this from the outrageous amount of bounce messages and automated thank you messages I have been getting this week…like this one, from the White House.
If you got an email message from me I did not send it. I actually only send email from my work address about 99% of the time. The other 1% is email sent to people asking about my family tree. The last time I sent an email was January 19 to my niece and prior to that on Dec 9, 2014 to a cousin.
Sorry Obama, I didn’t email you.
This not the last photo I ever took of my mother before she passed away. Rather, this ranks as one of my personal favorite photos of my mother and me. It was taken on the 2nd floor outside deck of Care One, on a summer Saturday about two years before she died. In this photo I can see her in my own face; I can see that I am indeed my mother’s daughter.