Oh how times change ...

How complicated life has become. Of course, it doesn’t have to be, but ours is… well… magnificently, gloriously modern.

In a nutshell (and you know how heroic that attempt at brevity is for me), last week the modem decided not to play ball. I rang our internet provider and spent a solid two hours conducting what felt like a small scientific symposium over the phone. The customer service officer — a truly lovely and infinitely patient woman — finally concluded that salvation lay in a brand-new modem. I matched her patience saint for saint.

Interim: no Wi-Fi. The phone had to suffice. And truly, it was not the end of civilisation as we know it.

Next morning? The modem was working perfectly. All lights solid and green. If you know modems, you know this is the equivalent of a choir of angels. A miracle. A happy day.

Naturally, less than forty-eight hours later the new modem arrived.

For two days I ignored it. Technologically speaking, all was well with the world. Meanwhile, texts and emails began arriving, gently — then not so gently — reminding me that installation had not occurred and the old modem had not been returned. I began to imagine representatives from the internet provider appearing at the door, clipboard in hand, accusing me of modem theft.

Deep, calming breaths. I set aside two hours for the Great Changeover.

I photographed the existing modem and its spaghetti of wires like a crime-scene investigator. Thanks to my earlier tutorial and copious notes, I even knew what each cable did — a heady moment. I installed the new modem. Eventually, the blessed green lights appeared. Easy.

Changed the Wi-Fi on David’s computer. Easy.
Changed the Wi-Fi on both our phones. Easy.

All was right with the world.

Then I went to print a PDF. Oh holy moment — no printer Wi-Fi. Reconnected.

Ah yes — the solar. Heaven forbid it stop reporting our virtue to the appropriate authorities. Reconnected.

I was feeling rather accomplished at this point. “Clever elder,” I said to myself.

Then I asked Alexa for a time-zone change so I could ring someone overseas. “I’m having trouble connecting to the internet,” she replied sweetly. At least she told me. Fixed the Echo. Fixed the pod. Positively brilliant now.

Oh no. The car.

So I sat in the car — in the driveway — reconnecting its Wi-Fi like I'm fully embracing the 21st century. By now I was technologically triumphant but spiritually depleted.

Cooked a beaut dinner (always restorative after battle). We settled down to watch a movie.

No Wi-Fi.

Of course.

I do so love being an elder and keeping abreast of the times.

Today I am returning to my 250-odd place cards on the drawing board. Ink behaves. Paper does not require passwords. This afternoon I shall speak about calligraphy on ABC radio — a realm where quills and quiet concentration reign supreme.

Bliss.