You may have seen my rant last week about Blogger/Picasa/Google telling me that I had reached my limit of uploaded photos, and couldn't post any more on my blog without buying extra photo storage. That's not likely, since I don't think it is fair - but afterward - I deleted a bunch of photos from Picasa and I was able to post the photos in the last post.
I just tried to post a photo of the last roses of the season tonight, and was once again told that I had reached the limit. What I don't understand is how deleting at least 30-40 photos allows me space enough for only 4 or 5 more photos??? I don't know anything about "sizing" the photos (as someone mentioned) so it is all Greek to me.
At any rate, my only rose bush is putting out its last neon magenta hurrah, and I was hoping I could show you the last eight blooms. The purple petunia is blooming its little heart out too, as are the pink and yellow lantanas. These plants are all within the confines of the fence, but the ones that are out in the front yard are taken by the deer as soon as they bloom. My front yard looks like a desert.
There may have been another last hurrah in this household. I took my driver's license test today, and they asked a series of questions I don't remember being asked the last time I took the test. Such as: have you had heart trouble? Have you had a stroke or seizures? I was able to answer no to all of the questions, but I wondered what that might mean for mr. kenju (who had a stroke three years ago), so I asked the examiner if there was anything a stroke victim should know before they attempt to take the test. She said that he would be given some papers to have filled out by his doctor and would also have to take a road test. I did the eye and road signs test. I only missed one sign, and I passed!!
When I delivered that information to mr. kenju during dinner, he was frustrated and sad, saying that he might as well not even try to take the test - since he would probably fail it. He has tried to drive once since his stroke, but only for a few blocks in our neighborhood. The last time he drove any distance was the day he had the stroke, 38 months ago. The way he put it was..."I'll be dependent on you for the rest of my life, under your thumb everywhere I go." I certainly understand his frustration. If I couldn't drive it would devastate me. I'd probably go to bed and pull the covers up and stay there. He knows I have been deathly afraid of his trying to drive - so at this point I don't know what I can say to ease his frustration - he won't believe me anyway. How would you handle it?