I’ve got a dongle and I know how to use it!

I know that not a moment ago I was yabbering on about an idyllic childhood with little television, no internet and no mobile phones. And it really was idyllic. I also know that I yabbered on about being quite keen to keep DH from working when we retreated to our retreat. But then I realised that pretty much my whole life is tied to the internet in one form or another, and the fact that I am getting bigger by the day means that sometime soon I shall be stranded on the sofa, with nothing to do but Google and write my birth plan. And if I do become very wedged, then I shall need the interweb to find the number of a very nice man with a forklift truck who can extract me. And so, Dear Reader, the DH and I made our way to the Warehouse of Carphones yesterday to procure a dongle. Despite sounding inappropriate, it does mean that I now have access to yell.com for helpful forklift truck drivers; I can check the tides so that DH doesn’t get down to the beach with the rugby-mad hound at high tide and end up losing the ball in the surf; and I can check the local cinema listings. Our new multiplex has jst opened and you can only book in advance (what?!) but they do promise your choice of beanbags, or sofas, and a licenced bar. DH and I are going to test out their ‘home from home’ philosophy ce soir- I shall curl up on the sofa whilst DH sups on his ice-cold beer. I wonder if we can bring the dog…home wouldn’t be home without her…