The wireless on my router worked well to connect to the internet on my laptop when I was still served by my previous provider, but, after it was disconnected, I downloaded the router CD onto the laptop, and I was not able to access the internet. What now? I downloaded the CD again and still no connection.
In desperation, I called my son and told him what I'd done and asked what could have gone wrong. He was puzzled and said the connection should have worked. After thinking a bit, he asked me if the antenna button was turned on. I did not know there was such a thing as an antenna button on the laptop, and I had no idea where it was. He said I should look on the front of the laptop. At first, I saw only a red light, but, when I looked closer, there was a small switch. When I slid the switch to the right, the red light changed to blue, and I was able to connect. What I've written sounds simpler and less time-consuming than the reality, which dragged on for a couple of stress-and-frustration-laden hours.
In between failure and success with the computer, I took a break to arrange the curly willow branches I mentioned in my earlier post. The branches were too tall for the vases and needed to be clipped. Out came the wire cutters to cut a number of branches. As some were too thick for the wire cutters, I had to saw them with a knife. Nothing is ever as simple as expected, but, in the end, I was pleased with the minimalist effect.
Finally, I settled down with a glass of wine to test the computer connection, all the while fearing that, as luck would have it that day, I'd be thrown offline at any moment. To my great relief the connection held. Around 11:15 PM, I decided it was bedtime, so I shut down the computer, and, when I reached to plug in the laptop to charge the battery, I knocked over my half-full glass of red wine on the carpet. Oy! Not bedtime yet after all!
After blotting up all possible liquid with paper towels, I continued the clean-up with my ever-handy bottle of Resolve Carpet Cleaner, with not much hope that it would do the tough job of removing the red wine stain. After much rubbing and scrubbing, I called it a night and finally went to bed.
The next morning, when I examined the area I could still see where the wine had spilled, so I rubbed and scrubbed again. Later in the day, when the area had dried, I could not see stain marks, so I moved the chair and the magazine rack back into place. I haven't looked closely again, because there's nothing more I can do if there are remnants of stain, except call in the professionals.
Grandpère's evening was no better. When he drove to his meeting down the bayou, he went to the wrong house and got stuck in the mud in the driveway. The owner of the house was kind enough to tow him out, but he was most embarrassed.
End of whine. I don't know if I feel better now that I've written about my woes, but it is done.
