With Julia gone for the month and work kicking into high gear, life at the house has become more quiet. I talk to the animals, I ramble on incessantly, but perhaps most of it is in my head.
I started out titling this post “UN-FairPoint” and it was going to be my rant about how lousy customer service was from my local land-line provider. My phone has been going out every rain storm since late August. The company used to offer a handy spot on their website where I could report the trouble. Apparently, that became to much of an imposition. Now you can only call, when your phone line is out. Now there’s a concept. My internet is working just fine via the ugly dish in my front yard but the days of Ma Bell and simply picking up the phone via that thin line coming down the road are over.
Aside from the inconvenience, since my cell phone coverage on this side of the mountain is nonexistent , my alarm system is tied in to the land-line. Normally, this would pose a threat. Though I have been robbed, (my reason for the elaborate system of floor sensors and cameras,) the evil one is rotting in jail or gone on to taunt others for the time being. And though the system may not be able to notify the “authorities” via the phone. The alarm is still very much working. Trust me, it’s a loud, screaming, reverberating device that sends the cats, dogs and I running for the deck. No need to call the local police station, it can be heard for miles.
Beyond the lack on “hot line” to the local police, it has a nifty option that I was unable to disable for two days. When there is no phone line, the alarm system beeps. Not overly loud, but insistent, annoying and constant. It is luckily just below the level old Dahlia can detect. The rest of the four-footed crew were edgy but not consumed by it. I was consumed. All night long. No matter how many times I tried to over-ride it, within an hour it was back. “Hey! Phone line is still dead!” Yo! Did I mention you have no phone?” “Hello? Can you fix the phone?”
I came home on Friday to find the sun out and a tiny window of opportunity. I had phone service!! A quick call to the alarm company and a few odd codes punched into the key pad – silence!
What I didn’t miss, those gloriously quiet nights, was the barrage of telemarketers. Those calls that come in as I’m cooking dinner and mentally unwinding from a day of smiling and selling. “Hello? I’m calling from the mumble-mumble Institute for political research, funded by the Pew Foundation and we are conducting a poll regarding your attitude of politics in New Hampshire this year.” I give them one chance to take me off their list then I blow the whistle, quite literally, into their ear.
Instead of ranting on about how poorly the communications industry is treating the little person, I think I will just sit back and appreciate the silence they have given me from one more interruption.