We have had a problem for years with our internet provider,
who shall hereafter be referred to as @#$$% Ma Bell. Their charges have
skyrocketed while the speed of their DSL connection and dependability has
plummeted. And almost every bad storm we have, winter or summer, we lose
connectivity to the internet. Finally, Google Fiber made Kansas City one of its
rollout cities, and for almost two years, I’ve been waiting for Google Fiber to
make it to my “fiberhood” so I can say a less than cordial good-bye to @#$$% Ma
Bell.

Two weeks ago, the Google Fiber crews finished connecting to
my house—what a racket of drilling into my foot-thick brick exterior walls!—and
made an appointment with me to come inside and do the interior part of the
installation. That appointment was for yesterday.

As it approached, we realized that the point where they
would bring in the cable lay in what’s turned into our junk corner of the
family room. That means decluttering and moving things and cleaning, oh my! (I
find those things much scarier than lions, tigers, or bears.) We found things
we didn’t even know we owned hidden under the don’t-have-a-place-for-it-right-now-so-I’ll-just-set-it
here-temporarily mound. (Please tell me that at least some of you have one of
those!) Like a never-used, decades-old cassette tape player. Not much use
anymore, unfortunately. And no one’s admitting to placing that machine there
now.

Furniture must be moved out of the way to create room for
them to work back in the corner by the electrical outlet, which means moving
other furniture out of the way to make room for that furniture and moving other
things—like my spinning wheel—out of the way to make room for the second batch
of displaced furniture. It’s kind of like falling dominoes with bookcases,
tables, and spinning wheels—and lots of stray books, boxes from my son’s Iowa
home, and of course, forgotten tape players.

As I write this, we’re about to head into the final battle
with the junk corner in anticipation of the advent of Google Fiber in the
afternoon, so as you read this, I should not only have reliable, low-cost internet
but a newly clean and organized junk corner. A win-win for everyone, yes?

Now, confess. Do any of you have a junk corner hiding in the
depths of your home? How do we let this happen?

LATE ADDENDUM: As the very nice Google Fiber guys were about to finish the installation, a power transformer across the street exploded with a huge bang and blue-sparked light in zig-zag waves like in a comic book or graphic novel. The whole neighborhood lost power for many hours just as it was starting to snow. So my husband, son, and I trekked to a local coffee shop for warm shelter (I’m still recovering from pneumonia, and I can’t do cold.) When it closed, we drove out to a suburban 24-hour restaurant with central heating until my answering machine clicked in and told us they’d finally fixed the neighborhood power. As you read this, I will still not have Google Fiber. They can’t return until Saturday. But it’s almost here.

COMMENTS (I still can’t comment so I’ll have to edit to respond–isn’t that crazy?)

Pam Hopkins, don’t you think it’s a human trait to put things down somewhere “just for now” and then forget about them as we get busy?

Mary, I had an overfull bookcase break and topple in my office/fiberart studio last year. What a mess! I’d send you the tape player, but I’ve already freecycled it. I am so looking forward to being able to call AT&T to say, “It’s over.” Cancelling landline, too, and going completely cell, which I never thought I’d do, but they’ve driven me to it.

Ritter, thank you for all of this information about Ooma. I’d never heard about this before. It’s definitely something I will be checking out. I really appreciate it!

Ah, Faith, I’m not talking about the garage that’s too full of stuff for a car. Some things are just too shameful. *sigh* I didn’t mention that every spare space in our house is crammed with boxes, bins, and eztra furniture recently moved from out son’s home in Iowa. Unlike the junk corner, that’s not a normal aspect of my house. (He’s found a job in the area and will be getting his own place once he digs out of the debt in which months of job-hunting left him.)