July 24, 1997
Does a doorbell ring in the night if nobody can hear it?
Dear Patty,
When you sign your name on the line that binds you to a house for 30 years, you can't imagine the ways your life will be broadened.
You don't know, for instance, that sooner or later you'll have to assume the ways of a burglar breaking into your own home. Or that bees will ring your doorbell one night.
Given the number of unidentifiable keys the average person keeps hanging around, misplacing the good keys and locking yourself out of the house is probably inevitable. That the day it happens will be the hottest of the year is also probably inevitable.
Truth is, I was mad at DC about it. I suggested we kick down the basement door.
But she had a better idea. She pointed to a second-floor window, the one that was occupied by a fan until the recent day a pigeon got sucked into eternity.
Turns out, DC had had to enter the house through this window only the day before. Grrrr.
This time, she steadied the extension ladder while I sweated up the steps. But all in all, breaking into our house was much too easy.
The bees rang our doorbell last Saturday night. We didn't know who it was at first, only that the bell was going off wildly and Hank and Lucy were barking hysterically.
This was mysterious because we have no doorbell button. DC removed the standard button because she wants one in the shape of a lizard. I want one in the shape of a frog. So all we have right now is a hole with two wires sticking out.
Only the electronically savvy who come to our door know they can ring the bell by bringing the wires together. But no one was there.
I began playing with the two wires, and bees started exiting the hole. Many tiny bees. Bees had turned our doorbell button hole into a nest.
Fiddling with the wires stopped the ringing momentarily, but when I went back in the house the bees went back in theirs. The ringing resumed.
Again I moved the wires. More bees came out and the ringing stopped. Momentarily.
Eventually the doorbell started ringing and wouldn't stop. What would Charlie Chaplin do? I wondered.
We disabled the doorbell with a screwdriver. Which raises a question: Is a doorbell ringing if nobody can hear it?
Now what do we do, seal the hole, entombing them like kings in a pyramid? No.
As with any unwelcome houseguests, we don't want to kill them, just encourage them to leave.
If you know how that can be done, please write. Meanwhile, I'm going to see "Ulee's Gold."
Lucy graduated from obedience school this week. We're not sending her to Europe.
DC says she was one of the star pupils. Now she's taken to anticipating our commands. Of course, only if a treat will be the reward. Otherwise, she still does whatever she pleases.
Obedience school just gave her some new tricks to get treats.
Hank attended the graduation ceremony from a distance, making guttural noises all the while. We thought we'd get an idea how he'll react when he enrolls in school in September.
Well, seeing all those dogs and strangers in one place made him hyperventilate. We had to walk across the park for a timeout.
We thought a little bit of obedience on Lucy's might calm him down. But if I were a burglar, I'd watch out.
Love, Sam
Connect with the Southeast Missourian Newsroom:
For corrections to this story or other insights for the editor, click here. To submit a letter to the editor, click here. To learn about the Southeast Missourian’s AI Policy, click here.