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It's me!

Before I get started with my story, I might need to ask a favor for those of you who want to help.


A decade or so ago, I started writing stories for Your Daily Fiber's blog. At the time, I wasn't sure what a blog was, so I read a couple of store blogs and convinced myself that there was no possible way I could write a blog.


Sheez, it was so complicated. We needed a website. (Ivy took care of that) The website needed a special page for a blog. (Ivy took care of that) Once a week, I needed to write some words and put them on that special page. (Ivy showed me how to do that. Not the writing words part, the putting it on the page part. Mrs. Tavner showed me how to write words.)


Part of using the special page meant I needed an email address. I had an email address that was provided to me by my employer during my construction life. I don't know how I got it, someone just issued it to me. For reason that you might be able to guess I was told I could not use that email address on my special page.


Me! The guy who doesn't like technology needs to get another email address just for that page. To keep this story just a story and not a novel, let's just say Ivy helped me set up an email address. Keep in mind this was back in the Hotmail, AOL, etc. days.


Ivy and I settled on a username. I told her it didn't make any difference to me what my password was, so she picked it for me; pinheadllamaboy. Ivy loved me back then.


After a bunch of trial and error with emails and the website, we settled on a couple of organizations that have worked out for Your Daily Fiber. I needed a way to publish the blog, soon to be changed to stories. I needed a social media account. After a few days on something called MySpace, well, you know the one I chose.


I felt this social media "company" asked what I thought were some pretty invasive questions of me. So I thought. I might not have been totally truthful in some of my answers. I know George Washington taught us not to lie, but I missed school when that lesson was learned.


This social media asked for an email address. I/we were given email addresses by our television providers (Not writing a novel here) that I/we weren't using. I picked a username and password to send to social media. secondhandlion@d#s^m$i#.net, password- allfours I pick these because I could never forget them.


I promised not to turn this into a novel, but I would be remiss if I didn't explain secondhandlion. One of the best movies ever made. It really hit home for me. Two adults, Elaine and I are two adults. A child was dropped unexpectantly to be raised by the adults. Elaine and I raised the twins. The movie had a lion, Elaine and I have seen mountain lions. The stars liked to sit on their porch, and Elaine knits and spins on her porch. I shoot magpies from the porch. One of the stars beats up four teenagers, Elaine is not afraid of teenagers. At the end of the movie, the two stars flew their plane through the barn. I plan on flying a plane through our barn someday, I haven't chosen my co-pilot. ( End of the novel)


A few months, or maybe years ago, social media notified me to change my email password. I didn't so they did. Why did I care, I was never going to use it anyway.


Well, that didn't work that well, the d#s^m$i#.net part of my email address is now defunct and I now have a gmail account. Social media want me to change the password for a non-used email address which I have no idea what the password is, to begin with. I am trying to change my social media account to Gmail.


Social media is asking me to send a photo ID to regain access to my social media account. I've sent my photo twice and each time social media rejects the photo. I have a social media account, I can see it on my computer, but I can't use it. I hate this (construction language) (construction language)!


Elaine is going to help me send this out on her social media. This is where I could ask for a favor, If you feel like sharing this, please do until I get this sorted out.


Down with social media! Buy yarn! God Bless, love ya!


Our crazy lives!


Monner

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