Dead to the Modern World

My access to any technology has been severely limited for the past couple of weeks.

Our computer crashed. And Bruce determined we needed a new hard drive, which was ordered quickly.

But this happened within days of when we received our latest telephone bill, in which the phone company insisted we cough up an additional 10 dollars monthly for the services that we use. Important services. Things like call waiting, caller ID, along with long distance and international plans.

And with that, Camel Bruce's back broke.

For years, he has wanted to turn our land line off entirely and have us use solely our cell phones. But because my mom lives in Germany, I nixed that. Having an international calling plan put on our cell phones wouldn't have been less expensive. And I need to be able to call my mom on a whim.

But then along came Skype. And I found not only that I could call my mom for free on the computer but also that, after buying a nifty little camera that sits atop my screen, I can see my mom, live, while we speak.

So Bruce countered the phone company's demand to show them the money by cancelling everything off our land line. No international calling. No long distance calling. No call waiting. No caller ID.

And it's that last one I miss the most. Because, when I'm elbow deep in cleaning toilets, the last thing I want to hear on the other end when I pick up the phone with rubber gloves is a recording of a voice telling me about a "for a limited time only" offer to take advantage of lower interest rates on my credit card.

But to have the loss of my phone luxuries suspended within days of our computer dying... it's been tough. I've been thinking a lot of Laura Ingalls and the Little House on the Prairie lately.

No, really. I have. Because our electricity went off the other night, too. On the same night that "24" comes on. And "House".

So the kids went to bed when it got dark. Bruce and I lit candles that we placed on top of our mantel. We started a fire in the fireplace, and we read books for awhile. But it's hard to read by candlelight. So we went to bed early that night, too.

But not before both of us realized how quiet the house was without electricity. (After the kids fell asleep. It was quiet only then. Because before they conked out, they were all giggling while attempting to sleep together in Allison's room - Spencer, because he was scared; Clay, because the younger two needed him "so they wouldn't be scared".)

No phone luxuries. No e-mail, Facebook, or Blogger. And no light, TiVo, or "24". No microwave to pop popcorn even! And I had to park my van outside that evening when I got back from a meeting, because our electrical garage door opener was dead.

Life has been hard. (I thank the Lord that I was caught up on washing our laundry!)

But, that one night without electricity was nice, too. No computer moaning in the background. No dishwasher churning. No humidifier humming. No heat pump kicking on and off.

Just the fireplace crackling.

It was nice. For one night.

I'm glad the electricity was back on by the next morning. And I'm thankful that my husband, my computer genius, fixed our computer back to its previous glory.

I still miss caller ID.

And I probably always will.