If you have read my columns for a while, you are familiar with my ongoing war with technology. Sadly, I lose many, if not most, skirmishes and am always grateful that our son can set me straight on proper usage.

My first battle of the new year happened as I was cleaning out my junkroom. This long overdue task resulted in the creation of piles of boxes and bags filled with (a) items for donation, (b) items for the trash, (c) items to be stored elsewhere, and (d) items I thought other family members might want. I was going to take a picture of those last items to send to various nieces and nephews when the camera function on my phone froze.

Having had some training from afore-mentioned son, I went to the internet and searched out what to do. It was fairly easy – just reset all my settings. After a few trials, I was able to do that and — voila! — my phone camera once again functioned well.

What I didn’t realize is that I should have also re-set a number of other features on my phone, but that knowledge would come with experience.

I snapped several pictures of stuffed animals and sent them to loved ones. Slipping my phone into my pocket, I continued sorting stacks of long-stored items. Then I heard the front door bell. Our front door is very old and the doorbell itself is a dated in the 1860’s. It’s a metal half dome with a crank on it. When you rotate the crank, a lovely little sequence of peals ding throughout the house.

Our front door isn’t used much and typically only delivery people and strangers ring that bell. I heard the dinging and jogged down the stairs to the door. Looking out, I saw noone, and no packages on the stoop. I jogged back up the stairs and resumed work.

A few minutes later, the bell chimed again. I walked down the stairs and looked out — nothing. I prowled around the house to each of the other three doors to peer out. The dog was snoozing quietly and no one appeared to be around.

I trudged up the stairs and resumed my sorting. The tingle of the bell sounded a third time. This time, I picked up my baseball bat and stomped down the stairs. Something was afoot!

While I was staring out the door window, the chime sounded again, but not from the door. It was my phone! The pre-set text notification sound is the same little chime as our antique door bell.

And that’s when I realized that I had lost my calypso text notification, my “I Love Lucy” phone call notification, and my charming waterfall for voicemail. I had to stop my sorting and boxing and reset every one of those notifications. Of course, first I had to go the internet and look up how to do that.

Technology — 1, Sue — 0. I’m already prepping for the next scuffle with technology.