Computer Says 'No'

What I've been thinking about this week:

• Technology

Remember when the only phones we had were landlines? It was great. We had to wait till after 6pm until our Dads would let us phone anyone; the whole family could listen in to your conversation (especially when extra handsets elsewhere in the house became a thing); and we never knew who was phoning until we picked it up and said our number out loud.

My sophisticated neighbours, The Murrays, had a trim phone

From 1978-1992, my phone number was 20602. Nowadays I can't remember what I ate for my last meal. Or the password for anything. 

Which brings me to this week's struggle which, incidentally, is real. 

I had to get a new phone. I didn't want a new phone. I was quite happy with the one that I'd had for the last four and a half years. 

• I'd worked out how to stop it pinging every time a butterfly flapped its wings on the other side of the world. 
• My most used phone numbers were shortcuts on my front screen so I didn't have to spend an extra ten seconds scrolling when I wanted to ask Ivie why he wasn't home four hours after he said he wouldn't be long. 
• I'd adjusted the alarm sound to the equivalent of someone saying my name gently and stroking my cheek, rather than an electronic rooster strutting about the bedroom being a dick.

But the time had come. Rather like myself, my phone was taking longer to complete routine tasks. It had also started switching itself off mid-conversation when my friend and I were deep in discussion about Strictly. You can see why it had to go. 

Gratuitous Alijaz shot

After much swearing yesterday afternoon (and evening, to be fair) my new phone is set up and we're slowly becoming friends. 

It did make me think about how we're all at the mercy of technology, though, and how more and more of life needs an inkling of techy knowledge to be able to take part. It seems that it's the same in the farming world. 

A large section of Ivie's tractor cab is taken up by the GPS system and other gubbins that work out flow and spread rates and sums that Ivie still does in his head anyway for good measure. 

We were driving into town yesterday - to look at carpet samples, we're so rock n roll - and passed a field that had recently had a new crop planted in it. 

"Look at those nice straight lines," I said, feeling pleased that I'd said something vaguely relevant. 
"Aye, that's been done with a tractor with auto-steer, mind you," was the response. 

Partly, I was disappointed that my contribution had been slightly top-trumped but mainly I was relieved that I'll never have that level of farming knowledge.