Oh, dear, it seemed that I had got my wires crossed…
What’s new? I hear my regular readers mutter; isn’t
it the case that the Crossing of Wires has provided copy for many a Daily Blog and is likely to continue to do so? In this case, however, I have to explain, we are talking about real wires.
No sooner had Jim the Decorator packed up his ladder, his paints, his brushes, his rollers and departed our house and our hallway, it became apparent to me that, before I could move the small hall table back into position, I would
have to attend - somehow - to the complicated tangle of crossed wires leading from a trio of Communication Devices.
There they were, the three of them perched
on the newly stained windowsill, while below on the floor was a mess of wires, some leading to an extension lead of magnificently unnecessary length which, if plugged into the socket on the wall, could easily power up three times as many devices. Other wires
had ended up in the socket itself - but which wires?
Just to complicate matters further there was another wire which snaked all the way up stairs to some
kind of power point but didn’t actually lead anywhere at the hall end, its sole purpose being to add to the Crossing of Wires. I don’t think I have enough knowledge of All Things Electrical to disconnect it without advice from a Higher Power. As
in, a qualified electrician.
If there is one positive to come out of our Watery Emergency two months ago, it is the opportunity to sort out the many messes
caused in the process of normal life. As each of the devices was added to the hall table over the last few years, nobody - that’ll be me, then - bothered to make sure the wires from each were, well, tidy. The time had come, I told myself bravely, to
tackle the Crossing of Wires.
How difficult could it be? I wondered. I am always having to press the pause button on my latest knitting project in order to de-tangle
balls of wool which have become inextricably entwined in the depths of my red, spotted knitting bag. Hold on a minute - think about that word “inextricable” meaning “impossible to disentangle or separate.” How often do I give up and
break off the jumble of wool so that I can get on with the job? Not something I will be able to do with my entangled wires. I decide to inspect the problem at close hand.
It would be much easier, I can see, if each device had only one wire leading from it. The Sky box, however, which links us to broadband and our telephone, has three cords, one blue, one grey and one white. I am scared to unplug any of these, fearing
the disaster of being cut off from the outside world. The telephone (a new one as the old one was damaged in the Watery Emergency) has two leads, one grey and one black; Mr B’s community lifeline has two leads plus a short grey one which doesn’t
appear to go anywhere but may be (I surmise, not knowing what I am talking about) an aerial of some kind. Just to make the Untangling Task still more tricky, all three devices appear in some way to connect up to each other. Hence the Unholy Web of Wires which
I am seeking to disentangle…
I try for a fruitless half an hour to simply separate the wires by threading one over another. It is impossible without unplugging
certain devices at the mains. When I disconnect the telephone, the community alarm goes berserk: “Warning!” it shrieks at me, “The telephone line is disconnected!” I know that, I tell it silently. It keeps on yelling at me till I plug
it back in.
There is nothing for it, I will have to unplug everything, remove the ridiculous extension lead completely, buy a couple of double or triple plugs
and start from the beginning again. I shall pray that in doing this the WiFi will not take offence and that connection will be restored without further ado once I’ve untangled every wire and plugged everything in again. I will have to shut my ears to
the warnings being yelled at me by the Community Lifeline and hope that Mr B doesn’t awake from his slumbers and add his protests on my clear and obvious inefficiency.
So far, so good. Everything seems to be working (fingers crossed). I am endeavouring not to feel too self-satisfied as everybody knows that Pride Comes Before a Fall. I have moved the small table back into the hall and placed the three devices on it
where they look suitably smug. The redundant wire leading down the stairs I have rolled up and tucked behind the table where it doesn’t show. Well, not too much, anyway.
Now to tackle my knitting bag…