We all know that Farmer H leads an extremely busy life, what with not-rebuilding that carburetor on the generator, not depositing The Pony's house payment in our credit union, and not putting flea medicine on the dogs. So imagine my surprise extreme rage when he finally DID something on Tuesday night.
It was the night my internet died. Was working moderately with basic websites until I left for town mid-afternoon. At least I was able to blog, though had no frills for entertainment. I consulted Genius, who was not able to solve the problem, though gave me some diagnostic tests to determine if it was a HIPPIE problem or a router problem or a DISH problem.
I had just sat down to scratch my scratchers, the only pleasure I had left, after sending Farmer H off to the living room with his supper. Barely through the first ticket, I heard Farmer H mouthing about how I must be crazy, because HE HAD INTERNET on his phone. You know, because obviously I was making the whole thing up, depriving myself of internet, just to make him look bad.
"What is the security code?"
"WHAT? What are you talking about?"
"I'm calling DISH and I don't know what the code is, or what the problem is."
"Why in the NOT-HEAVEN are you doing that right this minute??? I am finally getting time to scratch my tickets, and you decide NOW is the time to deal with this? After a month of having problems with it? I told you, you need to pick a day when you can stay home, and call them from the basement, because they usually tell you things to do so they can diagnose the problem. Like unplugging, or turning things off."
"I am TRYING to help you, but I have no idea what you're doing!"
Let's just say the conversation took a downhill turn after that.
Farmer H had plenty of time over the last week to make two trips to Casino Town for SUS2 (Storage Unit Store 2) business, spend three days at his SUS2, attend two auctions, and play bingo for money with a Senior Center pal and 189 other people. But no time to deal with my internet issue before the whole thing went kaput.
Mrs. HM has grown tired of her place at the bottom of the list.
Let the record show that Farmer H's "internet" was not through our wifi, but only the service his phone picked up as they will do when conditions are just right. And that Mrs. HM made that call her own self, on Wednesday morning, with the pertinent information at the ready. And scheduled a service appointment for the next morning. Took two days of servicing, but her internet is back!
6 comments:
Sigh. I could send him another virtual smack upside the head, but that really is a waste of time, right? The force of the smack will be well dissipated by the time it reaches him and he might just feel a flutter of air passing his ear.
River,
Also a waste of energy on your part, because even a full-force smack would not be noticed by Farmer H's hard head. It's the thought that counts. :}
Just yesterday I asked HeWho if he was capable of doing ANYTHING! He has not ordered new hearing aids or talked to anyone at the comapny of his curent ones to discuss the issue of the bulbs coming off in his ear. He has not called to make an appointment for the pontoon to be welded .... I could go on and on and on. Anyway, I put some rice on to go with the great northern beans and ham that was in the slow cooker. I said, "I am going to shower, I won't be long. Please watch the rice and if it starts to boil, turn it down to simmer and put the lid on." I was not even complete wet when he yelled, "It's boiling, what do I do now?" I repeated my instructions as I scrubbed my scalp. I was rinsing when he said that it was still boiling. I got out and wrapped myself in a towel to go take care of the damn rice and ask him if he was capable of doing anything without me coming to the rescue. He told me he was capable of sitting in his chair! I was tired, having planted ferns I salvaged form the woods and then mulching the narrow side of the driveway and all I wanted was to shower, eat and go to bed. A pleasant evening was not forthcoming.
Kathy,
Heh, heh! HeWho is an expert who could teach a master class on chair-sitting! I knew right away that the rice-turning-down would be too much for him. He would probably lose to Lassie in a "Timmy fell down the well" notification competition.
When I was in my early 30's I was hospitilized with bi-lateral deep vein thrombosis in my legs. Blood clots, both calves, that were swollen to cow size. While I was in a hospital bed, not allowed to even get up to use the bathroom, he called one night asking how to cook rice. I explained the process and told him that the ration was i part rice, two parts water. The idiot used FOUR cups of rice and when it all boiled over he called me to ask what he did wrong! We were regular church goers at the time and I wondered why those gossipy old church ladies were not there to rescue him!
Kathy,
Yikes! Cow-legs! Yet you took the time to enlighten HeWho on the ways of rice. You should have just told him to take a slice of bread, put a hunk of butter in the middle, and squeeze it into a ball. Instant supper! The middle school kids at Steelville used to do that. They could go back for unlimited bread and butter. Nobody was leaving that lunchroom hungry.
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