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Trouble and Travail
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An angel of Despair has descended upon Benpensa Farm and we here have been beset with technical difficulties that have tested our allegiance to the advance of technology. First of all you should know that being eager to communicate
with our scattered (in more ways than one) friends and relatives that we have installed here three (count them – one, two, three) telephone lines altogether and during this last week these lines have become so noisy and infiltrated with random communication by others (technically referred to as cross talk in the trade) that the privacy and integrity of our electronic transmissions and vocal offerings of brilliance to the world of literature and technology has been sorely prejudiced. Three days ago we insisted that ATT abandon the defense of (you have squirrels in your attic) and immediately install a new telephone service cable which they did day before yesterday. They sent a man and a rather comely blonde out who made quick work of installing what they referred to as a "quad five" (seems like a contradiction in terms to me) service line out to the pavement edge where they have a junction box. The blonde lady was so overcome by my bearing and the general nature of my personality as well as my story of travail that she promised me (on the sly) to connect my service line to the cream of the crop lines into the exchange---which no doubt she did. So two days ago was taken up with these tricky negotiations with ATT personnel and testing of their response to my demands.
Then yesterday I discovered that someone has been siphoning colored ink out of my Dell 720 printer and that I no longer was capable of sending color pictures to my dear aunt who lives in Albuquerque and to three other of my relatives who have not yet entered the computer age and so I hastily ordered three colored ink cartridges from Dell---I should note that Dell is the only source for ink cartridges for Dell printers---which is indeed a restriction of trade if not a conspiracy to monopolize the market on Dell ink. In the past Dell has been very expeditious in sending their ink out and it should arrive here by Fed-Ex no later than tomorrow. So until then my plans to keep my relatives and friends advised of the appearance of their progenitors and distant cousins that they would not recognize if they met on the street are at a standstill.
Then yesterday was the acme travail---Frank noted that there was water in his room coming from under the partition to the principal bathroom in the house. Investigation in that room which has a tiled floor indicated that water was about an inch deep and skillful investigation showed this water to be bubbling up through the floor of the bathroom around the water service to the commode. So we called a plumber who came out and said that the copper line to the commode was broken under the concrete floor and that the only way to fix it was to Jackhammer a hole in the bathroom floor and reconnect it, which he did. And lo and behold the wellspring of water was quenched and the sun once again shone upon Benpensa Farm and all was well until I asked him what his charges for this service were. A gentleman does not discuss his personal financial matters with the world at large so I shall not do so here. Suffice it to say that if FPT and I eat gruel and bitter herbs for two decades we may repair the damage to my bank account, but the bathroom floor was dry.
All was well. Frank took a shower and I retired to the other bathroom and spent some time in quiet contemplation of the world and lo and behold water began to flow all over the bathroom floor. My anger at the plumber was intense – he had already departed – and I did discover that it was not a fault of his workmanship but rather a filled up septic tank and backed up sewer line that was the problem. They ought to put a gauge on all septic tanks so that one could go out there and look every so often and determine in this was going to happen and take steps to prevent it. So a septic tank maintenance service is coming out at one PM today to empty the tank and unplug the line.
So that is the story of what I have been doing for three days and why there are going to be no more pictures in the mail or over the aether until the ink gets here and why I hate plumbing. In my childhood there was a small dual chic sale at the end of a forty or fifty foot path from the back door and when that became over used one could call the WPA office in town and the government would send out a crew of ten men who would move it to your spot of choice and cover carefully the evidence that it ever was at the old spot. What was wrong with that system---gave employment to ten men, provided a free service toi the citizenry of the nation and all was well. I conclude that indoor plumbing is not necessarily a sign of progress.
I will keep you advised if the telephone lines hold up. The comely blonde said the replaced telephone service line was badly attacked by fire ants and that the new "quad five" line was more resistant. Must go make coffee and contemplate this technical breakthrough.
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