This is our current internet modem with lots of jolly green lights on it which means it’s working.
Unfortunately the service provider is upgrading the system, and they seem to be in total chaos about it.
In their one communication, they implied we should be sent a new modem which hasn’t arrived, and we’re now way past the proposed date of the upgrade.
It’s almost impossible to get through to them on the phone at the best of times; now it’s absolutely impossible.
I’ve camped out on the line several times now and never got anything other than avant garde music.
What’s even more annoying is that the call menu only has buttons for if you’ve received your modem but not heard from a technician about installing it, or had the modem installed and it doesn’t work, or had the modem installed and it isn’t satisfactory. (Worrying that these things are being planned for.)
There’s no choice for if you haven’t received the modem!
Now the service is going down at random times so they can do preparation work.
Clive and I are heavily internet-dependent so things are going to be hell for some time to come.
Today we had visits from a couple of technicians to put right the various problems with the equipment.
A female rehabilitation doctor also arrived with a massive entourage. They crowded in the doorway, too many to count, and since Clive always moves like an orang-utan from hand-hold to hand-hold under his own steam, he could see little point in their presence and asked that they wait outside.
Which they did, chatting and smoking, thick on the ground as the buds in the photo.
Only one gorilla-like male came in, once, to move our own pole which Clive needed to raise himself from the sofa – where he’d taken refuge late last night after the bed finally gave up the ghost.
Or is it – where there’s hope there’s life?
At last some good news. Today, exactly 5 months after returning from France, we were visited by a doctor, a nurse and a technician, and it seems that before long (10 days was mooted but we shall see) Clive will have not only equipment to help him walk again but also manpower at home for a short time, which latter is quite unheard of in Italy.
Adding even more pigment to our Red Letter Day, he unexpectedly stood up, something which he managed a few times about a week ago but had been unable to do since. It took even him by surprise and it happened in front of all those people!! The technician got quite excited.
So here’s to new life, and to represent it is a photo of my baby wisteria, grown from seed and now spreading out little leaves.
I had a phonecall this afternoon from a telesales woman with what we call a ‘gerbil on acid’ phone manner.
She offered me free connection of a phone line and all sorts of goodies – at our old address.
I asked her if the offer also applied to our current address in VALTOPINA which it took her about ten minutes of mishearing me to arrive at from ZALDOTIMA or something of the sort. The area code did it in the end.
Yes, yes, it works for your street (after further lengthy spelling). And you most definitely have ADSL at your exact address, up to 7Mb.
I didn’t believe her so she put me through to a technician who confirmed everything just as excitedly.
They wanted me to enter into a verbal (recorded) contract there and then, which is just as binding as a written, signed contract.
I said I had to speak to my husband who wasn’t there (he was about 6 feet away) and could they please phone again tomorrow.
Then I phoned the engineer who did the survey and told him the whole story including the fact that his survey results have been hived off to the ADSL area.
He confirmed we do NOT have ADSL although we MAY have it later this year, and he thinks we will probably have to pay for connection as well as line updating etc. He will speak to a colleague on the commercial side and phone me back on Wednesday morning. When I get the phonecall Tuesday afternoon I must ask them to phone instead on Wednesday afternoon.
As I said to Clive, that’s 3 days in a row of gerbils on acid!!!
‘Two women equals one man’ is an extremely sexist comment and one which needs to be taken in context.
It was what Angela, our cleaning lady, and I said to each other jokingly as we wielded wrenches and went in this way and that at the bottom of the stove trying to apply counter-pressure and tighten the nuts whose alleged looseness might be responsible for the ongoing leak.
She’d seen where the drip was coming from and I’d phoned the technician who installed the stove – in other words the amateur bodge-job was being done with his blessing.
We managed to lessen the frequency of the drips somewhat, and I put an empty hot dog sausage tin and an empty tuna tin in the bowels of the stove to hopefully catch future drips.
It will have to do until our plumber/electrician returns in a week’s time from having another eye operation in Rome.
The stove has been shutting itself down very frequently recently. The leak I’m sure has nothing to do with it and so represents an additional problem on top of the original one.
Valtopina ASL (Health and Health Administration Centre) is open one morning a week – Thursday – so, after phoning to verify they could help, I went down there today to change doctors.
The clerk behind the hatch greeted me with the stony-faced ‘it isn’t my fault’ look of the Italian bureaucrat and announced that the computer wasn’t working.
“But I phoned first!” I protested.
“If you’d got here fifteen minutes ago, it was working then.”
“Is there any chance it might start working again before you close?”
“I just told you,” (I never heard him) “I’m closing now and taking the computer to the technician.”
So that was that. Complete lemon. But there are 4 mature and beautiful strawberry trees just outside the entrance. I spent a few enjoyable minutes taking photos of them.