Pavlov's Cat dragged herself guiltily away from the fascinations of the blogosphere as the ringing telephone in the other room brought the bolder of the tortoiseshells to the study doorway with that 'Aren't you going to answer the phone?' look on her face.
Just as well. PC had one 800-worder and one 1500-worder due by the end of the day and not only had she not yet started to write either of them, she still had 20 pages of the book left to read and 15 minutes of the video left to watch.
At the other end of the phone was PC's dad, 80 next birthday, calling from the supermarket where he was chauffering the sister with the newly-reconstructed right hand around while she did her shopping and such. He wanted to know if PC had just been trying to call him. 'By the time I got the mobile out of my pocket the bloody thing had stopped ringing.'
PC thought about the number of times she had tried to show him how to check for messages and ended up in a yelling match.
She thought about the number of times she had tried to explain that if ever she had been trying to call him, her name would appear on the screen. She knew this because she had set it up herself.
'Is W there?' said PC.
'Of course she's here, we're doing her shopping.'
'Give her the phone and let her check and see if there's a message,' PC said.
PC's dad began to huff and puff. 'Not going through that again,' he replied, gnomically. 'I don't take bloody messages.'
PC had a sudden flash of the day after her sixteenth birthday when he had tried to give her her first driving lesson and they had made it all of two hundred metres down the street where they lived before she had stopped the car, got out, slammed the door and stomped off home.
'Okay, fine,' she said soothingly. 'Forget I spoke. As you were.'
The Aged Parent began to chuckle.
PC hoped the call hadn't been about anything important.
8 comments:
I'm also a Taurus in Adelaide.
I started a blog on behalf of one of my cats yesterday.
I just found yours, you beat me to it! (sort of) ROFL
There goes my idea of being clever, and all. LMAO
Keep up the good work.
Oh good heavens, I don't think there's any monopoly on it or anything. There's an Adelaide blogger called ThirdCat (sign unknown) who blogs at 'Adelaide Writer' -- see link in my sidebar. You'd love her, she's a hoot. Between us we advertise Haigh's chocolates so much that they should give us both a lifetime's free supply.
Oh sweet!
On my way! ROFL
Please forgive the unintentional pun.
Found her in the links, but blogger is claiming she doesn't exist.
Oh well.
I'll keep trying. Thanks! :D
Fixed!
So it is!
Thank you.
:D
Aged P's can be remarkably resistant to mobile phone technology. Mine only accept it up to a certain point and often only at certain times of the day. And as for texting -- no bloody way! (As a stringsaver, my mother is also very careful not to exceed the $5 per month or whatever plan she is on.)
My guess, and I am in a lot of sympathy here, is that they are sick of gadgets that make them look stupid when they can't get their heads around them. Let's face it, the electronic age has been a radical paradigm shift in human development and most elderly people have had a lot of trouble making the jump.
But my dad HAS learned to text (his new wife taught him, the patient sausage), is very pleased with himself, and has in fact shown a considerable talent for the pithy msg. I got one out of the blue a while back during the height of the cricket season that said, in its entirety, 'Ponting for PM.'
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