So glad to see all my friends at TypePad restored to their up-to-date selves - how bereft one feels when things go wrong. It's like having a powercut when you're about to watch "Rome" or whatever. I do remember, however, that when I was small I loved powercuts - all that candle-lighting seemed very romantic, helped by the fact that we had a range in the kitchen and a coal fire in the sitting room - so we didn't freeze - and there was no frozen food to be paranoid about as it melted and refroze, with all the microbes multiplying happily. I think what cured me of this romantic attitude was the time in the early 70s when the early years of my married life (in an all-electric flat, which cooled down amazingly quickly) were blighted by rota power-cuts and bread strikes. I remember that the shops ran out of candles and I was reduced to using wax granules in a meat paste (yuck) jar which exploded after about an hour when it overheated. after that, we used to visit friends who lived in another area and had their cuts at different times. And we used to rush home to cook dinner before the 6pm -9pm cut.
Oh dear. I'll be on about cleaning t'road with tongue if I don't stop. And to think that what I was really worrying about was my inability to understand how to use an RSS feed (or whatever). I may have one, but understanding eludes me. And that despite Claire's valiant efforts to enlighten me.
But now I've been Skyped and I'm stopping. At last.