Computers, cats, and their little ways, in the present instance. Miss Kit, who adores the Northern Gentleman, was perfectly well behaved in our recent absence. But not long before the actual holiday, I was in London for a while and she celebrated my return by being sitting on my keyboard, and being sick on it. This was tidied up immediately, of course, but it has become increasingly obvious that the letter A has not been the better of the experience. Beyond the moment to moment inconvenience, every password I am capable of remembering has an A in it somewhere, and while one can frisk a certain amount of ‘hs n in it’ and ‘ certin mount’ out of ordinary text, I keep coming to grief with passwords, or psswords as the cse might be. Something else has also happened to the blasted thing: it seems suddenly to have become impossible to block a chunk of online text, or to drag and drop something off the desktop. This may be the result of a war I conducted against cookies, having realised that every attempt to buy, for example, dinner candles, resulted in about 17 different sites setting a cookie to keep an eye on me, but whatever has caused it, it’s most inconvenient.