Remember my adventures in Fax-land last week? They continue. Fax Dude was supposed to come back yesterday with the new part and make everything all better. He did not. This morning, Alternative Fax Dude shows up with the new part and gets to work. He discovers, to his dismay, that a different part is also damaged. Do they have the part in stock? They do not. He will have it overnighted and will finish the job tomorrow.
Faxless and forlorn. That would be me.
He leaves my wounded fax machine in the workroom behind me and escapes to parts unknown. [Maybe that is where they keep the spare ones?]
This is the rabbit-hole down which that wire disappeared last weekend, causing no end of excitement when I bumped the panic alarm while threading the wire back up through it.
The good news is, I no longer have a McCormick reaper threshing away near my ear. The bad news is, we had to commandeer one of the outgoing-fax machines. And I had to disable its handset, which shrieks every time a fax comes in. I had forgotten that small detail. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to unplug a handset – such a simple task that any three-year-old can do it – with the front-office equivalent of an air raid siren going off at arms-length?
To calm my jangled nerves, I take a little stroll at lunchtime. These guys are not too far from the office, a nice walk any time of the year but August. [August here in this part of Texas is as close to Hades as I ever hope to get. August in Houston, Texas *is* Hades.]
Bloggers, meet Trammell Crow's cows. Any Mad Cow Socks knit for them would be large enough to hang up at Christmas!
Cows, meet the Bloggers.
I didn't have quite enough nerve to hang my Jitterbug socks from his horns. Although it might have been a quick way to meet one of Dallas's finest.
Alternative Fax Dude comes back with the part, looking a wee bit sheepish. [My IT person is about ready to shear him, and possibly neuter him into the bargain.] He spends a good chunk of the afternoon clinking and clanking in the workroom. My fax machine is now fixed. [Presumably, Alternative Fax Dude is not. I thought it kinder not to ask.] Both paper drawers are full, and when a new fax comes in, the machine purrs contentedly. As do I.
Here’s some knitting progress for you: 45 out of 112 rows before the armhole shaping on one side panel; 35 out of 112 on the other, as of quitting time. Pictures tomorrow-ish, after Knit Night and what I hope will be a good night's sleep.
- Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!