Over the weekend I did some more messing with my new TV camera.
In particular, I added a new wifi area near the camera to give it a strong signal. It wouldn’t fucking work! For some reason the camera could see the new network but just wouldn’t connect to it.
I gave up.
That evening I was sitting quietly when my phone gave a little double-ping. I checked it. No new messages or anything like that so I delved in further. I opened the little yoke that monitors the camera and there was a new message – something had triggered the camera!
So I checked all the other alerts and there I was in the front garden silently cursing and fiddling with the setup. The shagging thing was working even though I had switched off the new network. It had somehow decided that the wifi at the back of the house was okay after all.
It has been working all week. No problems. Someone enters the garden and I get a message and a short video of whatever is going on. Even better, it isn’t sensitive enough to pick up any traffic on the lane which would be a problem. It does however pick up moths and spiders. So I have loads of little video clips where a moth flashes past, triggers a little alarm on my phone and floodlights the garden.
I was down in the village yesterday having a solitary mug of coffee, basking in the sunshine and with Penny curled up at my feet. Just out of interest I logged into the web page that displays a live view of my garden. The fucking thing wouldn’t load. I don’t know why; it works on my laptop. So out of interest I fired up the application. There in al its glory was my front garden with no car and open gates. I didn’t realise the phone yoke was Interweb based – I thought I had to be logged into my network. Apparently not.
We have had quite a few visitors since the weekend. All of them are logged coming and going so during the day the system may record maybe half a dozen times a day. At night though it goes ballistic and can record twenty or more events – all of them moths or an errant spider.
Now I have to find a way to banish those little flying bastards.