Walls were heavy, and wallbuilders were hearty lads
Left the house this morning with the phone battery showing 18%. Little matter, given that I don’t actually talk on the phone, but the bit of having ‘net available where’ere I go has proved to be a diversion during otherwise boring bus travel. However, the phone doesn’t fade to zero before saying goodbye; by the time I hit the centre of town, things had dropped into the red zone, and powering down was the only option.
Of course, I put the phone on charge as soon as I reached the cubicle, and after eight hours had accomplished nothing. Note to self: find an alternate charger. I’m slowly coming to the realization that cell phone service is ephemeral. That whole five bars thing is the least of needs. However, my trusty Playbook did connect to the office wifi system (another sketchy service, worth a chapter or two elsewhere) and on my first try someone called my on Skype. Something akin to casting a fly and suckering in a salmon, for want of a better analogy. No, there is no native app for the little tablet that would. Yes, you can get to the outside world via a browser hack.
The project to integrate those long hidden church windows at work continues. Last evening (we have a night shift?), someone cut the required opening for a client service window out of the gyproc that had been nailed in place over six decades ago. For the record, back then it was a material to be reckoned with. Fully as thick as the base of my thumb, and too heavy to lift (construction guys back in my father’s time must have been hearty lads). No wonder there are no signs of holes punched through the wall in anger in this case.
