Suffused

Fio lives in a house overflowing with wires and cords. Everything is connected to something, and then there are all the loose cords, like the ones that have found a snarled home beside husband's recliner, the ones under his desk, the ones in the several snarls of cords in the garage, and the many hoses outside that twine around each other like a family of boa constrictors and trip Fio when she goes out to water the yard. Wireless electronics cannot come soon enough for Fiorella, but the hoses will be always around...and around...and around.

Here, There, Everywhere

Fiorella lives in a house of cords--the lamp cords, the computer cords, the printer cord, the thousand and one cords Husband uses which Fio fathoms not.  There are even cords in the garage--on hooks, in baskets, in drawers.

Oddly enough, Fio's great-grandmother, according to an old family picture, also lived in a house of cords.  Cords that were strung across the wall from (wonder of wonders!) electric light to electric light.

So maybe in the future, the electronic plug-ins will disappear like the the ones controlling the electric lights did.  Maybe charging will be done through the wifi.

Not that Fio knows what she's talking about, but you get the idea.

Electronics Again

Two weeks without television.  I don't think that's ever happened before, even when we were on vacation.  Husband promises to get everything working over the weekend, though.  We'll see--or maybe not.
*
It's like we live in a snake house.  There are coils of black plastic cords all over the place. Fiorella  wants a computer system that requires neither a power cord nor a printer cord.
*
Son understands all about wiring up a television or a computer, but never learned to ride a bicycle.