In the beginning I had the idea that someone or something was hacking my email account. So I upgraded to OS Catalina. I hated it. Without researching, I had thought it would be like all the other updates I'd used, but it was a break-point in the sequence of OS's and meant to make all the previous OS's obsolete so apps would have to upgrade and so on. In fact, even the machine itself was now reorganized by this OS at installation, making some apps unusable. This was a great money-making scheme, though it is presented as a move into the future.
Anyway, I tried to go back to OS Mojave. Judging from the YouTube vids and written advice, a LOT of people were doing the same. The trouble is that the generation of techies designing the OS's are not just younger, they are from a different culture. To them all phones are cell phones, no one really lives between SF and NYC, and our dearest wish is to belong to a tight community of people just like us. NOT.
In the process of struggling with my arthritic fingers and inventive old-lady brain, I evidently mistook the wayback machine for the backup machine and erased everything. Somehow I got to OS Mountain Lion. A techie in Canada got me to OS El Capitan, which is another break point in the sequence and as low as you can go while still getting to OS Mojave, which I finally achieved.
Then I thought, being too smart for my own good, that I could rename my email handle through the business office of 3rivers.net, my provider. This would make a clean break. It was a major mistake. It locked me into a circle created by a hyper-safe environment. Everything has to be confirmed through email but email has to be confirmed by telephone but none of the systems recognize land lines.
Another techie, a woman in Montana with a small fierce dog named Toby, spent hours over three days with me before we finally got to an active email. I got to Blogger just now by using my old email name which it doesn't seem to know was changed. Maybe they go by ISP anyway. But I still can't get to Twitter or make my printer work.
If you're on Twitter, you might let them know that I didn't die, reduced to cat-gnawed bones, and am writing my brains out in private. It's very quiet during the lockdown but the little mom-and-pop store has TP again. A reader from Massachusetts simply called me on my landline to see if I were still alive. It made me feel very cherished. If any readers are worried about rural or small town people in this pandemic, find out what county they are in, get the sheriff's phone number (landline) and ask them to do a welfare check. It's part of their remit.
Everywhere I go online there are more "prove it" demands. I'll keep trying to blog until I can't for one reason or another. It was bad timing for innovation during a pandemic and economic whirlwind. I'm in Valier. I'm in the phone book. If a cat answers make them prove who they are.
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