Saturday, lightning struck our street. We were luckier than some on our street; we only lost our modem. The folks down about a half mile had fire spewing out of their electrical outlets.
In between is my mom’s little house. She lost her modem, her satellite TV, AND, her adding machine exploded while she was working with it.
We called our local phone company that afternoon. “Yep,” they said. “Your modem is shot. Can’t mail you out one until Monday though.”
(I have paraphrased and summarized as you might imagine. I was on the phone for over an hour.)
“My husband and I both work online,” I explained calmly. “Will it get here by Tuesday?”
“That’s the soonest. We’re sorry.”
Now, I’m not totally certain they actually said “I’m sorry.” But that was the general tone of the phone call.
All so civilized.
I generally write my blog, or at least make certain it’s ready to go on Sunday afternoon. Not to worry, I told myself. I’ve written one up on a Tuesday night before. I’ve been writing under deadline since high school.
And I dug in my garden Sunday afternoon instead.
Here it is Tuesday night. I’m on my tiny little 6s phone, typing with one finger. This will not be a long post. They tell me our new modem will ship out tonight.
There’s much to write about this week and I’ve not written any of it. Perhaps that’s for the best. Perhaps the best thing I can do, any of us white folks can do, is to stop talking, stop explaining what’s going on And just listen.
I’ll be back next week with what I heard.
How about you? What are you hearing this week?