On a related note, Mrs-barakta's-mum's cursed notjbex:
She has a Shiny! New! Samsung 'smart'[1] TV. This requires an internet connection. Dr Biggles' Local IT Company™ have installed a consumer-grade VDSL router at the front of the house, well out of Devil's Radio range of the telly.
Previously, I'd attempted to solve the lack of Devil's Radio coverage in the living room using a pair of those powerline extender things. Which mostly worked, in a packet-lossy, Hearing People's Crap Internet™ kind of way. This didn't stand the test of time, for unclear reasons that probably involve passwords.
At some point someone, who may be Local IT Company™ or Biggles Jr, attempted to solve the no-iPlayer-on-the-telly issue by installing a Shiny! New! set of powerline extender things. This was discovered to be Not working, for reasons related to:
- The upstream half of the original pair of powerline extenders being left in place, warm, and apparently non-functional. (Its downstream companion having disappeared without a trace.)
- The usual vagaries of ring mains and old houses.
- Powerline extenders being a work of Stan.
and (my favourite):
- The Shiny! New! Samsung Smart TV being an effective source of mains noise, such that it would immediately obliterate the powerline Ethernet when plugged in.
After a rummage in Ye Shedde that failed to deliver a large box of Cat5 and a BFO drillbit, I resorted to bumblefucking a solution where the powerline extender was relocated to an adjacent room that was on a different ring main, yet within Devil's Radio range of the Shiny! New! Samsung Smart TV. And then instructing the TV to forego Perfectly Good Wired Ethernet and connect wirelessly.
Predictably, this lasted until this morning when the earthquake simulation apparatus washing machine reached the spin cycle. Further trial and error traded off Devil's Radio performance for another socket with a more robust powerline connection, successfully facilitating the watching of Dr Oho while a sock vortex was open.
I give it about a week, or until the next power cut / thorough hoovering session, whichever happens first.
Meanwhile, I located the stopcock, fixed the device for injecting 4 year old slime mould air bubbles into the bathtub; discovered that the central heating has a perfectly good timer and thermostat[2]; checked that the installers hadn't failed to remove the transport bolts from the earthquake simulator; and - against my better judgement - made the outdoor socket on the wall of the garage[3] work.
[1] This appears to mean it can access Netflix, iPlayer et al. (for now), and that - in best MS Windows fashion - it takes a minute after switch-on to become properly responsive to the remote control buttons.
[2] An early digital one that's clever enough to be useful, but simple enough to have dedicated buttons for everything and therefore refreshingly easy to use. Which has been set to 'continuous' for the last 14 years or so through a combination of Mrs Barakta's-Mum never noticing it was there, and Dr Biggles' determination to do his bit for climate change at every possible opportunity.
[3] Like many men of his generation, he was fond of permanently installed electrics fed via a bit of optimistically rated twin&earth from a 13A plug inna socket on the other side of some wall or large item of furniture (with any resulting socket contention resolved by liberal application of grelcos). For added excitement, it's wire fuses all the way down, the house's singular RCD being screwed to a bit of studwork in the side-attic in order that electrons appropriated from the immersion heater supply be delivered to the device for injecting 4 year old slime mould air bubbles into the bathtub in an electrically safe manner.
