It is 4.19am and I cannot sleep.
Yesterday was incredibly hot and it was a joy to work outside all day but I took a bit more sun than I realised and have probably joined the ranks of many other pale skinned Scots who are also awake suffering from sunburn.
I thought I would try and meddle about with the blog settings to see if I can sort out the spacing issues. It was something to occupy my mind in the middle of the night while I waited for the copious amounts of aloe vera to work on said fried skin.
Honestly, it feels like the first day at school all over again. I can't find anything which relates to spacing and even ventured into the 'advanced' part of the settings for a look. That was a bit scary. Luddites and 'advanced settings' are an anathema.
It is easier to bring colour to my milk white tinged with woad blue Scottish skin than to find the Thing Which You Click On in order to create a space.
My fear is that I click on the wrong thing, wipe the entire blog then end up miserable, confused, with prickly heat and insomnia to boot.
I have mentioned before that as a child of the sixties/ seventies, our nod to technology was the Language Lab where we had to listen to French through earphones while the teacher listened in to our dreadful attempts at emulating French through a thick Black Isle accent.
'Dons the loomin ay, sil voo play". It sounded splendidly exotic spoken by the pupils from Avoch but not in a French way.
Our biggest worry was that if the person who wore the headphones before you had nits or trying to prevent yourself from slipping into a coma by the sheer tedium of the class. And the social isolation of being stuck in a booth so you could not elbow your friend to make her laugh.
"This is the future" the French teacher would boom. "This is the searing end of technology"....
I'm old fashioned and want to write to Blogger in a Dear Sir/ Madam, I am having a faff trying to sort out spacing. Please could you help me? type of letter. With a stamp on it.
What are the odds of this ending up in one paragraph when I press 'publish'? I am compelled to drink Ovaltine. That's it Blogger - you have sent me on the road littered with discarded People's Friends and support stockings.
I have aged and it is all Blogger's fault.