I wrote my post a few days back, and saved it, and then when I come to find it and publish it, it vanished! Oh, it's probably lurking somewhere unsuspected and will pop up when you least expect it, but in the meantime, I try AGAIN.
I confess, I am a techno-ignoramus. I am fortunate in having a son with a degree in Systems Engineering, who works with computers and just about lives for them. (At his wedding, I did mention that I was delighted that his bride had neither pointed ears or a motherboard...) So when I have a problem, I can call him and he will come fix it. Or, at least, he has been able to do so so far! He even does it long-distance -- I had a computer problem while living on the Cayman Isles, and the two (two!) 'experts' at C&W couldn't figure out what was wrong. Well, one was on his lunch break, and the other...less said the better. I called my son. He fixed the problem over the phone.
Back in the olden days, I wrote with a fountain pen on lined legal pads. Then I got a typewriter, and wow, I could churn out twice the amount of rubbish in half the time! (Except when I discovered an error in the middle of a chapter and had to retype the whole thirty pages. My, was the air blue...)
Then I got my first word-processor. That was all it was -- it didn't play games or do emails or surf the Net, it just crunched words. It was a revelation!
I've gone on from there and now I'm a computer convert. But it just makes the tedious stuff easier. When a member of a writers' group asked me what sort of computer he needed to write his magnum opus, I told him he just needed pencil & paper and his own brain. (Sorry, Dell. I love you really, bless your electronic gubbins.)
My creativity is being severely restricted by my paying job. I haven't worked this steadily for years -- covering sick-leave and holidays means I don't have much free time this month. Oh, and there's the summer activities for Cats Protection at weekends, and now that Meri the Somali is a fully-fledged therapy cat, there are his visits to make. (He is a big hit, by the way. The ladies adore him. One, who only speaks Welsh, calls him her 'Cariad' ('darling') and kisses his head. I have wondered, sometimes, what kind of human male he'd be. Sweet-natured, inquisitive -- and handsome, of course...