When I first married and came to the 'farm' to live I had to get used to a few things...one of them being that there was no phone. I knew that prior to 'landing' of course, as I had to phone my future mother-in-law's number so she could pass on messages to 'Lovey' for me. I guess it would be like having your Mother-in-law as a friend on Facebook with you nowadays...lots of coded messages.. inboxing , and usage of Privacy settings.
It was not long before travelling 3 miles to get to a phone ceased to be romantic, and we inquired about getting a phone 'put in'. As the cost of getting underground telephone lines dug in across the neighbor's barley crop was a bit formidable , we opted to have the lines dug in in the fall after harvest was complete.
It was marvellous! A lovely brown dial desk phone..on a party line..but a phone nevertheless. Who cared if the old gentleman's phone down the lane rang every evening at 9pm? Who cared if the teenage girl across the highway forgot to hang the phone up properly rendering the whole process useless for all three families until someone drove over and told the teenager to put the receiver on the cradle straight? Who cared if sometimes I answered the neighbour's phone par accident and vice versa? It was a phone and it was all that mattered.
It was a link to the 'other' world. The world from whence I came. The world of old and faithful friends from communities I had travelled from. The world of singlehood, freedom, and financial security. I finally could contact that world and have conversations in relative (or rather non-relative) privacy in my own home.
As the concept of Bundles and other telephone plans were not yet developed the use of the telephone for long distance calls was actually quite costly. One time I received a sort of Thank You card from my telephone company. I received 100 minutes of free calling anywhere in North America. I saved that card for my birthday and locked myself in our one and only bathroom with the phone and called my former roommate in California. I can still hear the surprise in her voice when she answered and the lovely feeling of being able to have a relaxed and leisurely conversation with a good friend.
Yes the phone became my focus. I used to run to the phone the second I opened the door to see if I had missed a call. The first thing the children would report ,upon my arrival home, would be 'who called'. There would be the required piece of paper and pencil set down right beside the phone so accurate messages and return phone numbers could be written down.
The new phone book was displayed and hung up close by..for ever ready use. The clipping of the corner pages to the right telephone exchange was a ritual in my own family, with a nail hole hammered through the top corner and a white string threaded for easy hanging.
If the phone rang in the middle of a meal, game, or conversation all focus was upon the caller and the message , no matter how often or how unimportant. If the phone didn't ring during the day, I would start to feel awkward and uncomfortable.
Dial Forward 30 years.....
I unplugged my phone today. No, not permanently. Not even for all day. I did plug it in to see if there were any messages I wanted to reply to..but there weren't.
It has just been so quiet and nice. Even with call display one feels compelled to go to the ringing phone to see exactly who is calling and try to determine if it is a computer generated call from 'someone' wanting 'something' from you..no matter how much they insist that you have won a trip somewhere. I think I will leave it unplugged more often than not. After all..what is messenger manager for if not to take messages and have them delivered at MY convenience?
So glad I finally figured out that solution.
Some phone numbers from my past: 88r14--my parents', 88r2 --my grandparents', 66r23..my country school, 335 2855, 335 2834, 698 2702, 698 2967, 527 4253...all of these were important at one time. I thought I'd remember more. I guess now one has only storage for email addresses .
Short story re: 'Lovey' and the phone. He was at home alone one afternoon shortly after the phone was installed. I called him from town. No answer. I called again. Still no answer. Upon my return home I asked why he hadn't answered the phone.
His reply, "I didn't answer because no one ever phones me."
He now answers a ringing phone.
It was not long before travelling 3 miles to get to a phone ceased to be romantic, and we inquired about getting a phone 'put in'. As the cost of getting underground telephone lines dug in across the neighbor's barley crop was a bit formidable , we opted to have the lines dug in in the fall after harvest was complete.
It was marvellous! A lovely brown dial desk phone..on a party line..but a phone nevertheless. Who cared if the old gentleman's phone down the lane rang every evening at 9pm? Who cared if the teenage girl across the highway forgot to hang the phone up properly rendering the whole process useless for all three families until someone drove over and told the teenager to put the receiver on the cradle straight? Who cared if sometimes I answered the neighbour's phone par accident and vice versa? It was a phone and it was all that mattered.
It was a link to the 'other' world. The world from whence I came. The world of old and faithful friends from communities I had travelled from. The world of singlehood, freedom, and financial security. I finally could contact that world and have conversations in relative (or rather non-relative) privacy in my own home.
As the concept of Bundles and other telephone plans were not yet developed the use of the telephone for long distance calls was actually quite costly. One time I received a sort of Thank You card from my telephone company. I received 100 minutes of free calling anywhere in North America. I saved that card for my birthday and locked myself in our one and only bathroom with the phone and called my former roommate in California. I can still hear the surprise in her voice when she answered and the lovely feeling of being able to have a relaxed and leisurely conversation with a good friend.
Yes the phone became my focus. I used to run to the phone the second I opened the door to see if I had missed a call. The first thing the children would report ,upon my arrival home, would be 'who called'. There would be the required piece of paper and pencil set down right beside the phone so accurate messages and return phone numbers could be written down.
The new phone book was displayed and hung up close by..for ever ready use. The clipping of the corner pages to the right telephone exchange was a ritual in my own family, with a nail hole hammered through the top corner and a white string threaded for easy hanging.
If the phone rang in the middle of a meal, game, or conversation all focus was upon the caller and the message , no matter how often or how unimportant. If the phone didn't ring during the day, I would start to feel awkward and uncomfortable.
Dial Forward 30 years.....
I unplugged my phone today. No, not permanently. Not even for all day. I did plug it in to see if there were any messages I wanted to reply to..but there weren't.
It has just been so quiet and nice. Even with call display one feels compelled to go to the ringing phone to see exactly who is calling and try to determine if it is a computer generated call from 'someone' wanting 'something' from you..no matter how much they insist that you have won a trip somewhere. I think I will leave it unplugged more often than not. After all..what is messenger manager for if not to take messages and have them delivered at MY convenience?
So glad I finally figured out that solution.
Some phone numbers from my past: 88r14--my parents', 88r2 --my grandparents', 66r23..my country school, 335 2855, 335 2834, 698 2702, 698 2967, 527 4253...all of these were important at one time. I thought I'd remember more. I guess now one has only storage for email addresses .
Short story re: 'Lovey' and the phone. He was at home alone one afternoon shortly after the phone was installed. I called him from town. No answer. I called again. Still no answer. Upon my return home I asked why he hadn't answered the phone.
His reply, "I didn't answer because no one ever phones me."
He now answers a ringing phone.
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