After curfew

At the risk of sounding like I'm checking in with parents a minute past curfew, I'm ... checking in. With the mysterious Internet people. 

For now, at least.

Our Internet is nearly completely shot, which means it works one minute and not the next (five). Both the router and the modem appear to be not-so-slowly committing suicide. So, until we get things figured out, I may not be around much. I'm sure you're all so disappointed.

We can't call Comcast yet because as soon as they come to check things out, one of two things will happen. A) Everything will work. (Until they leave again.) Or, B) They'll notice that our entire front yard is dug up and tell us we did something to the line.

Regarding B, not true. We know where that line is, and it is exactly where you put it — oh-so-shallowly — two years ago, Mr. Comcast man. Just because we have trenches running through every corner of our front yard doesn't mean the service shouldn't work. The TV works, so we know the line is intact. So there.

On the subject of trenches. Garrett worked hard over the weekend to get nearly all of the underground portion of our front yard sprinkler system put together. (I worked sort of hard.) Then it rained. And poured. So it's a huge mud pit now, and even if we could get out there to finish stuff up, the person we're using to grade the yard won't put his machine on sopping wet soil. So, please, rain gods: Just hold up for a minute. If we can get this finished by the weekend, we can get seed in by early next week and little sprouts of grass up before it starts to freeze every single night. (By the way, I'm so conflicted because I typically love late summer/early fall rainstorms, but this year — we just can't have it.)

So that's it. Oh, except — in other mundane news about our life — our trusty, little digital camera given to us by Garrett's parents four (?) years ago, has bit the dust. So, once I actually HAVE reliable Internet coverage, I'll only be blogging by word in the near future. I don't know if that's good or bad for you all. Either way, you have no choice. :)

And that, my friends, was the longest call-a-minute-after curfew explanation I've ever given.