Wired

When I was a child my grandmother Carter had a desk on her closed in porch  with a matching chair - it had belonged to some long dead aunt I believe. The seat of the chair was sprung so when I sat in front of this desk I had to sort of perch and balance on the front part of the chair, not comfortable but do-able. I loved that desk - it was flat on the top, like a table, but the center opened revealing ornate little shelves and a drawer, the writing bit pulled with a blotter on it - I thought it was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. When I came home from school on my 13th birthday I found my beloved desk parked in my bedroom. My mother had the wicker seat redone to it's former glory - it was one of the best things I've ever gotten. I spent my teenage years parked at that desk, Wit h the chair restored I could write letters, do homework, as I grew older it became a make up table, a study area, coffee table. It is right next to me now, it's traveled from one house to another, a bit older and more  rickety, but still a sturdy little desk.

Over the years as time and progress has gone forward my stationary and books have been replaced by tablets, ereaders and a smart phone. A blue tooth keyboard, speaker, a fit bit. This of course all needs to be plugged in - all of it. At first it was just a couple of things - a laptop, a cell phone. But more things needed to be charged so I bought one of those stations with plugs and USB ports - every one is filled and my latest toy - a tablet with an 18.5 inch screen gets it's own outlet. I've tried to make it look nicer - I bought a hard leather tote that I store all the flotsam and extra stuff needed so it's not piled here and there. I've tried to put all the cords to the back so there's not a octopus perched on the edge of the desk. And it's not just my desk, is it? 

The more "wireless" we are, the more wires we seem to accumulate. There's a rats nest under the entertainment system between the DVD player, the box for the dish, the flat screen TV. The desktop computer in the den with the "wireless" router is a jungle of cords and surge strips. We live in an older home to boot so occasional extension cords are in the mix - the basement outlet fights with the recumbent cycle, the light and the fan gave it it's own surge strip. So my poor little antique desk is buried under a mound of wires, plugs and electronics, reserving one tiny corner for my cup of coffee. I wonder what that long dead aunt would think of her desk now!