Strangely, we have encountered a series of unfortunate delays and interruptions with our internet connection. If we don't have internet, we do not have cell service.
We switched to the new system last year, when the opportunity for fiber optic (instead of satellite) service became available in rural Wisconsin. For 11 months, we were blessed with uninterrupted service until recent electrical work accidentally cut the buried fiber optic cable. A repair was scheduled within three days.
However, over the last two weeks, we have had to find alternative means of connecting with family, such as driving until we saw that we had one bar of signal to send a text, or paying our bills in a café. With so many disconnects, I realize how dependent I have become on the Internet. It is not the “social” aspect of connection; it is research, submissions, Zoom lectures, and critique groups. It is acceptance into galleries, shows, and consistency in following through on all the above.
Technician #1 came and laid a new line. He was eager to learn more about our hens; they have not all been given names yet. So he said, “You should name one Roberta.” We shared our experience with him about raising the girls. After chatting and ensuring all was well, he left, saying someone would be out to bury the new line in a few days.
Technician #2 arrived and had to disconnect the service to bury the line. Everything was reconnected and good to go. We then checked our email and placed an order on Amazon for hemp to use as chicken bedding. (It’s the only way we can get it), and I posted last week's blog on Tuesday. Then the service went out again.
Another trip to the church parking lot was made to report our outage, and a technician was scheduled to arrive the following afternoon.
Sunday, Technician #3 arrived and had heard about the hens from his friend Technician #1. “He wants to know if you named one of them Roberta?” He went out to the box by the road, went to his truck, and walked back to the box, where he replaced the connector again. While he was writing his report and making sure the monitor stayed blue instead of red, he left.
I quickly checked my emails, texts, and Michael checked the weather station and football scores. Before we could complete our task, it went out again! A small dinosaur icon appeared with “no internet” in bold letters. Another ride to the church parking lot…
Yesterday, guess who returned, our friend, Technician #1. He was a conscientious young man who wanted to ensure everything worked properly. During his earlier visit, he had shared some information with us about fermenting chicken feed and asked if I had looked into it. I haven’t had internet…I replied.
We have since learned how fragile the new connectors are, as they are susceptible to a breeze or a sudden drop in temperature. Our question is how these new connectors differ from last year’s, because we didn’t have this problem initially.
Before he left, Michael showed him which hen was now known as Roberta, and he was thrilled about that. We joked that he should stay a while to make sure the red line on the monitor returned and visit with him, but he had another call.
This morning, we still have Internet, and there is no SOS on my phone. Thankfully, I can finish this blog and post it. I hope one day we find out if Technician #1 gets his own flock of hens.
Have you had a similar experience with internet disruptions? Please feel free to leave your comments below.
