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The brownouts have been frequent this winter, and so I am in the market for a UPS for Roomie's computer. I'm leaning toward an APC, if anyone out there is still reading this, any advice would be appreciated because this is my first foray into the arena of supplementary electronics. As is his proud custom, Roomie is being as helpful as a sack of fertilizer about this. Even if I buy one, I suspect it'll just gather dust in a corner because he'll refuse to plug it in and let it charge, lest it explode or meltdown or trigger a half a dozen catastrophes of the imagination. I still have two tablets I've never used because he won't plug them in to charge. I would, but none of the plugs are within my reach. They're either too high or too low. Ah, the joys of crippledom, when your enjoyment of the tings you own depends wholly on others' beneficence.
I read Longmire #5, AKA Junkyard Dogs, last night. More a character study than a case, it was a solid read, nonetheless. Vic Moretti is becoming a delight, as is Saizorbitoria, and Henry has always been a favorite. I wouldn't care if Ruby fell into a plothole and never emerged, though. She isn't bad, per se, but her overbearing vigilance and meddling in Walt's personal affairs set my teeth on edge. Yes, Walt makes stupid, macho decisions about his health, but they are his to make, and I'm sick of the trope that it's a woman's place, indeed, her sacred, betitted duty, to go behind his back and make clandestine appointments with doctors. The first time she did it in my office, she'd be out on her overweening ass.
The case was there, but nothing special, and the end was unclear. Was Gina the same girl who shot Deputy Cook when she was twelve, or was she her granddaughter? Was she neither? Was Felix Poulson the man whose ass Cook was kicking for strapping her to the truck rack in her underwear? I think we're meant to believe so since Sancho mentions three teardrops on Felix's body in the morgue, and the latter was only convicted of two shootings. Maybe he mistakenly thought Cook was dead since he'd been shot in the face and back.
Light on mystery, but big on character, and more than enough to propel me to the next one.
I read Longmire #5, AKA Junkyard Dogs, last night. More a character study than a case, it was a solid read, nonetheless. Vic Moretti is becoming a delight, as is Saizorbitoria, and Henry has always been a favorite. I wouldn't care if Ruby fell into a plothole and never emerged, though. She isn't bad, per se, but her overbearing vigilance and meddling in Walt's personal affairs set my teeth on edge. Yes, Walt makes stupid, macho decisions about his health, but they are his to make, and I'm sick of the trope that it's a woman's place, indeed, her sacred, betitted duty, to go behind his back and make clandestine appointments with doctors. The first time she did it in my office, she'd be out on her overweening ass.
The case was there, but nothing special, and the end was unclear. Was Gina the same girl who shot Deputy Cook when she was twelve, or was she her granddaughter? Was she neither? Was Felix Poulson the man whose ass Cook was kicking for strapping her to the truck rack in her underwear? I think we're meant to believe so since Sancho mentions three teardrops on Felix's body in the morgue, and the latter was only convicted of two shootings. Maybe he mistakenly thought Cook was dead since he'd been shot in the face and back.
Light on mystery, but big on character, and more than enough to propel me to the next one.
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But as a fellow someone who can't reach outlets in their native form 99% of the time, can you and Roomie agree to a surge protector with a cord long enough that it can be placed on something you CAN reach, so you can plug in whatever you want?
I'm only with someone else a few hours a day, so being able to plug in my own stuff as much as possible is a high-priority thing.
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