Technologically speaking.

I bought a phone yesterday for $2 bucks.

A corded phone.

The thing is—I have this house.  It’s a big house.  It came with a phone jack in every room.  (Almost.)  Plus the garage and the dock.  That’s a total of about eleven jacks.  And I came with exactly three phones.  Well, five if you count the extra handsets to the cordless phone.

One of the handsets fell off the hood of the car over by the chicken church.  (Don’t ask.)  Anyway, it’s gone.  Run over by a car.  Eaten by an alligator.  Something.

Lost to me forever, however it happened.

The other two handsets are, at any given moment, in need of new batteries.

I know, I know.

Many people have switched to a completely cellular communication system.

I’m not one of them.

I’m not a “millenial.”

Sue me.

I like corded phones.

I hear better on them.  It’s easier to hold a handset between your ear and your shoulder and do two things at once.  They don’t need batteries.  I don’t have to remember to charge them.  They tend to stay in the vicinity of the phone jack instead of ring from beneath sofas and behind bookcases.  If a hurricane hits and the cell tower falls, the phone lines might still be up.

I like corded phones.

So, I was very happy to find one at a garage sale one block over for $2 bucks.  Once upon a time, this was a fairly expensive, 2-line phone.  Speaker.  Programmable numbers.  The works.

It cleaned up nice.

It works.

I only need 3 or 4 more, and I’ll have one everywhere there’s a jack.  I think I’ll be spending some more time at garage sales.

Oh. . .and if anybody knows how to get a phone to call itself. . . is that possible?. . . maybe I won’t have to get an intercom system or a sackful of walkie-talkies in order to find my husband.  He’s hard to keep track of in all these rooms.