Part 1: Where I Renounce My Luddite Faith

Many who know me in real life are aware of my hatred of the phone. I own a great cell phone, but it (hopefully) lies in a drawer somewhere in the teeny tiny condo, gathering dust. I never carry it. Mainly because I never charge it. Which is mainly because then I might lose my focus and accidentally answer it and I'm convinced if I did, it would inevitably be my Heinous MIL asking the same irritating question she always goes right up my nose with, "Where are you?"

Um, "Busy?"

I also have been in quasi-hiding (don't ya love the way I keep making up words?) from my own family for about 15 years or so. After the recent failed attempt to start a relationship with my Long Lost Little Sister, I felt that decision had been justified.

My home phone has always been unlisted. They had no idea where I worked or what I did for a living. Let's face it, they had no interest in finding me but anytime I had dealings with them, there was always so much DRAMA involved it just wasn't worth it. The roles were always cast the same way. I was the Villan and they must band together to thwart my evil machinations.

My mother (who will we discuss later) once decided I had stolen a horse head brooch she got as a gift from a dear friend. Despite my assertations I had no clue what she was talking about, she accused me for years of having stolen this brooch. Don't misunderstand, most of my family are such thieves they would make Ali Baba and his 40 cohorts look like rank amateurs but I am not a thief. When I asked about the brooch approximately 15 years later, she said she had found it in the pocket of a suitcase. No word of an apology to me mind you, but it had been found.

Back to the phones. Although we run our cleaning business out of the teeny tiny condo, I love to forward the phones on the weekend to Wonderful Daughter so she can deal with, well, everything. I also live in a security building, so unless I buzz you in, you can`t come knock on my door. This is not a great neighbourhood so you usually can`t even follow someone through the door without being asked to wait to be properly buzzed in.


Last weekend, I forwarded the phones to WD. Truth be told, I probably forwarded them on Thursday. So I was pretty much inaccessible. Which was the way I like it. Which is what came back to bite me in the butt... big time.

My mother died Sunday. And no one could reach me. Until Tuesday. Because of other weekend drama involving Wonderful Daughter, my GrandBoys and WD`s soon to be Ex.

Tuesday morning, my now unforwarded home phone rang first thing in the morning. I was sleeping. My Heinous MIL was at the other end. When I asked,`What`s up?`She said she had just called to tell me she was sorry to hear about my mom. She had just read her obituary in the paper.

I was a little hurt my Long Lost Little Sister hadn`t called to tell me but wasn`t too concerned. I mean, what could I do about it? No matter what the situation, I wasn`t going to be called on to help make arrangements so really, did it matter no one called? I assumed the one great aunt, (who I ADORE!!) I talk to was on holidays because I knew she would have called me.

I left a message for Wonderful Daughter to tell her and inexplicably, when I said `My mom is dead.`I began to cry on her voice mail.

Then, I left to drive Tikki across town to his new groomers. Of course I got hopelessly lost and was 1- 1/4 hours late getting him there. And, since I don`t carry a cell phone I couldn`t even call her to let her know I was lost (and possibly get some directions). BTW, Luddites believe Tom-Tom and GPS are the work of the Devil.

To Be Continued