I'm visiting Lauren in Chicago. I remembered to pack everything except my computer mouse.
Teeny Weeny, Lauren's helpful cat, keeps giving me one of his toy mouses to use. I politely accept but don't tell him that they just don't work.
I'm not good at the touch pad. In fact, the touch pad drives me up the wall. It does not cooperate. There are things I just can't do with it. And with the things I can do, without exaggeration, they take me five times as long.
In fact, the Heavenletter that God gave us this morning was about patience. I have to tell you it helped. Nevertheless, I can't wait until I can get to a store here today and get a mouse. I will kiss its feet!
I have seen people using touch pads, and I don't understand it. How on earth do they do it?
I like the solidness of a mouse and how it so easily does my bidding. A touch pad is rather ethereal, wimpy, actually.
I think that people who use touch pads willingly must be from another planet.
I am confident that no self-respecting reader of Heavenletters would ever use a touch pad!