I spent some time with the new Social Media Specialist for Progressive Rising Phoenix Press, my publisher. I’m doing things I never wanted to do. Using vulgar sounding words like “apps,” and “downloads,” and “hash tags.” I’ve learned my handle, now, so next time you ask me, I can give you my handle and you won’t have to call me by my name anymore. My little pink telephone, which I’ve always referred to as my car phone because that’s where it stays, is now part of my body. And she’s officially my phone. That’s in case y’all need me 24/7. I’d advise you, though, if it’s really an emergency, call 911.
You may get some unusual “notifications” from #Deanna this week. I’ve promised him I would practice and improve my proficiency this week. And I will…as soon as I can figure out how to mail them to you. I do still have a stash of postage stamps should it come to that.
By the end of the day today, Monday, I will be home in the mountains and I can begin my barrage of notifications to an unsuspecting cyber world. I’m not sure this affair will last. I’ll take full responsibility for the breakup.