The happy trencher
The dawning of a bright, new day at our house. We’re reconnected! Seriously, if someone had ventured that what others take as commonplace, getting a phone line, would require weeks of patient requests and interventions by others, I’d have thought my leg was being tugged. Not so.
Give credit to the firm responsible for that “final mile”. Their team was in place, early. Fully equipped. A few questions to get the lay of the land (and the possibility of tangling with other utilities). Then, the roar of a Diesel and the job began. I didn’t go out to spy on the highway portion of the job; seeing and believing can be mutually exclusive. However, when the neat little tractor with the plow and the spool pulled onto the lawn-to-be, I wanted a picture. For posterity.
Just like a knife through butter…
And behind the machine, the real specialist, able to pack and cover with a few easy shovel swipes.
A few minute later, the (door)bell rang. Could we check the telephone, to see if it was noisy. And how about Internet access? All good? A wink and a nod and the truck drove out of sight.
Of course, we didn’t get anything else done today. Netflix. Web access. Quick searches for things without considering the overcharge on the cell bill. This is how life is meant to be, in the digital age. Yes, it could be faster, and cheaper, but this IS Canada. We have a certain obtuse pride in our gouge-level prices and second-class speed. It can only get better (like the weather).
