the diana chronicles

I am typing this from the new laptop Jeremy bought me, a machine I have not yet praised to the heavens. Her name is Diana, for Villiers and Wynne Jones. She replaces Jane (Austen) and Iris (Murdoch). She is schmick and zhuzhy in every way, from her glassy, serene screen to the I-will-write-a-novel-now feel of her keyboard, but she really came into her own last night. I came home to find a blackout – serious news for single parents – but I made dinner on the gas rings and we watched the Doctor Who finale in QuickTime on my battery-powered emergency TV. Did I mention she came with a remote control?

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