Phones, phones, too many phones

Okay, there are two of us who live in the house. Well, two who use telephones, since Sundance and Cassidy screen all their calls through us.

We each have a cell phone, although they are basically for emergency use and I almost never get a call on mine.

When Tom built the house, he had three regular phones installed: one in his office, one in my room and one in the main living room/dining room/kitchen area. In addition, there is an old analog telephone in the basement that is not connected through our power lines. That is so that we have a telephone to use in an emergency if we lose power.

Recently Peggy and Rich gave us three phones. (Long story, not all that interesting, although it was nice of them. Thanks, guys!)

So now we have nine phones, counting the cells. Remember, two old guys, two cats and a house with three bedrooms, an office, two baths and a great room.

Last night I was on the exercycle in the basement -- Tom was out -- when the phone rang. I got off the bike and stumbled to the phone. I picked it up but it was dead. Yet miraculously it kept ringing a few more times and then stopped. Puzzled, I put it down.

I mentioned it to Tom this morning and he went to check on it. Turns out he had put one of the extra phones downstairs near the basement phone, but had not plugged it in. The real phone rang, but I picked up the unplugged one.

Soooo dumb! Anyway, if you call and aren't getting through, we are not screening our calls (like those uppity cats); it's just that I can't figure out which one is ringing.