I did too, missed me, I mean. I lost my provider on Friday, for all three of my communicants; I have a Desktop and a small MacBookAire laptop, and an iPadMini) and was thus silenced for the weekend. Monday I called Rogers - a last resort - and it wasn't even penultimate. The so-called helper had me reboot my Modem and my Motorola thing and when that didn't work he tried to sell me a new router. So today I spoke to the building manager and he gave me the number of the guru who is in charge of a newly introduced WiFi system for the building. I don't know why I was able to function when I returned from my cruise, but the new system has finally caught up with me. The techie gave me really complicated passwords (he called them keys), one for my laptop and one for my iPad, i.e. my handheld devices, but nothing for the Desktop. I had to fiddle with the iPad for a while l and I'm not sure how it finally caught on. Maybe it was after I gave up and poked around Little Mac - my affectionate name for the Aire; the Desktop is Big Mac; the iPad is Minnie. I know: it's a bit anthropomorphic but I'm told that people are relating to their humanoid robots so much that they are being warned not to try to have sex with them. Anyway, here I am. It's not quite as simple as it was for me to step in and write my blog but I'm here and that's what counts.

I've thought of at least six blog ideas, but they, too, are gone. I've been thinking and working hard, including a good session with my partner, beginning to focus sharply on the screenplay I am writing based on her book based on the book she discovered about the event we're writing about plus all kinds of her own first-hand research. If that sounds too derivative, it won't be.

I don't know what I'm going to do about Rogers and Big Mac. I can't afford a divorced. I have two email addresses but the Rogers one is my primary business contact. I'll think about that tomorrow. In the meantime, there you are, my precious blog. Did you miss me?

I've missed two days because I've been too busy and I'm going to be busy today, too (last excursion to Stratford for this season), so I'll swim a little later this morning and clear my conscience. Two clays ago I encountered a perfect blog subject while shopping in the afternoon but I had an unexpected guest for dinner, the one who chooses his menu; he chose flank steak over chicken breast so I had to thaw/marinate the meat and clear some papers off the surfaces.

I've been preparing a profile for submission to Ryerson University because I have been accepted as a lecturer for the Seniors Education Program (I think that's what it's called). I'm going to be teaching Playwriting, an 8-hour/8-week course plus a foray into Character (we can all use some of that). This is one of the reasons I have been too busy to blog: I was messing around with the computer, filling out a form online and I kept bogging down. Not going into detail, just explaining my neglect.

Now: here's what I was thinking about when I was shopping. I needed new Band-Aids. (There's a brand name that has become the generic, at least for someone my age.) Does anyone remember the little orange thread that you had to pull - -always ineptly - to zip open the wrapping? It's long gone and a good thing, I guess, because it always ended on the floor below the bathroom basin, along with shreds of the (ineptly) opened bandage. You could always tell if someone in the house had broken skin (i.e. cut) because of the evidence on the floor. Why were you always the only one who knew how to aim accurately at the waste basket?

This is not what I want to say.

No. It's the proliferation of products that makes shopping, i.e. choosing, so difficult. I mean, have you looked at Band-Aids - sorry - bandages, recently? Not only are there different company brands but there are also different sizes, degrees of protection and of adhesiveness. (Is that a word? Spel-chek seems to think so.) You can choose antiseptic, waterproof, wrap-around, plastic, some sort of gauze, and coloured, funny ones for children or anyone who likes frivolous first-aid. I chose Tough, bur ti took a while, I mean, several minutes.

Nothing is simple any more. When I was living in Muskoka I really enjoyed my tiny, local grocery store because when I wanted butter, I bought butter. I didn't have to go through the range of choices: salted or unsalted, whipped, half and half with something lower fat/calorie (?), or Danish, or Canadian.

It's the same with toothpaste. It's hard to find plain ordinary toothpaste. You have to choose among a variety of services that the toothpaste presents: whitening, de-sensitizing, enamel- building, oh, and do they still fool with fluoride? Did you know that the word for toothbrush several centuries ago was "scurry-funge"? I'd love to see that on a label. Remember Gwyneth Paltrow in her Oscar-winning performance in Shakespeare in Love, thoughtfully cleaning her teeth with some sort of picky thing - a scurry-funge?

Now I'm late for swimming.

I'm going to see The Alchemist today. Anon, anon.