There is a TV ad campaign for a certain internet provider that uses spoon whittling as the occupation of choice for those who don't employ their services. A few weeks back said ISP, having a few years ago bought the one I've used hassle free for 16 years, told me it was stopping my service and I'd need to transfer to their branded provision. This seemed easy enough as they assured me I could keep my old email address.
Then today, with no warning, my email stopped working - I can still get webmail, so can pick up messages via a very creaky old facility, but no way of getting messages onto my computer.
Once upon a time, the ISP that was bought out (twice) had lovely people at the end of phones in Sheffield to whom I could speak with a very short wait. Now, with a minimum wait time of thirty minutes to speak to a real person, I opted for the 'live chat' method where a pseudonymous (?) person worked out that they'd muffed my transfer and not set up a new email on their server, and yes, my old email address was now webmail only, they'd misled me (inavertently I assume, let's be gracious here).
So, now I am in the midst of a four hour wait for them to activate my new email address and it is strangely quiet here!
For those who have emailed me today on my old clickety-whir address, I will get your messages... and once the new address is active I'll let you know so that you can switch over.
In the meantime, I might go and whittle a few spoons whilst seeking the last bit of inspriation for my sermon.