groupchat
via https://ift.tt/3jjQbxd
so Thursday Farmsister and I went out with Mom, and picked her up and
dropped her off at home, so here’s the second wacky thing from that evening.
We arrived at Mom’s at like… a bit before dusk. Maybe 7:30 or 8pm. The sun
was beautiful and golden and illuminating the foliage in glorious ways. We
all got out of the car and Mom went inside to get money to repay me for
buying dinner. (I tried to decline, but. Moms.)
Farmsister went and took down the flag. Dad put up and took down a flag
every day, on the flagpole out front, took the flag down in the rain, etc.
Very conscientious. Mom’s keeping it up, because why not.
I took a photo, so I’ll cut. Golden hour, sister taking flag down, very
artsy. The weird thing is afterward. Not much more punchline than the
other, but I’m telling it for posterity’s sake.
(Mom’s front yard is full of semi-shade-loving flowers but it looks like a
field here, LOL.)
Anyway. We were just getting into the car to leave, and suddenly a beeping
noise started.
“Your smoke alarm is going off,” I said, and we all ran inside to check the
different smoke detectors. It wasn’t the one in the back staircase. it
wasn’t the one in the basement staircase. It wasn’t the one in the front
staircase. It stopped, and we all stood in the middle of the house,
conferring.
“Well,” mom said, “clearly the house is not on fire, so–”
It started going off again. It really sounded like the back staircase one,
but I went and stood right under it. It wasn’t.
“Oh,” FS said, “It’s in the office. It’s somewhere in this room. It’s
here.” I came down from the staircase and had enough time to realize it was
quite a bit louder just the other side of the wall, into the office, and
then it stopped again.
“We know it’s in this room,” I said. “And in fact probably on this piece of
furniture.” There’s a low filing cabinet against the south wall of the
office, and the top of it has several baskets containing an assortment of
random things.
I peered down the back of the cabinet and found a single six-sided die and
a photograph of my late paternal grandmother. Farmsister pawed through one
of the baskets and came up with–
“That’s the smoke detector that used to be in the front hallway,” Mom said,
astonished. “It kept going off and I made Dad take it down, and he was mad
because it was one of those ones that was supposed to last ten years but
can’t be removed without deactivating it.”
Dad had hearing loss, and couldn’t hear smoke detectors really at all, so
he hadn’t found it that distressing– or useful– to have the smoke detector
go off at all hours.
FS turned it over. The switch had been clicked from active to deactivated,
but wasn’t fully seated in the inactive position. “Why is it still here?”
Mom asked.
“He was probably waiting for whatever materials it is to have a special
disposal day,” FS pointed out charitably, but really, Dad was just not
great at throwing things away. Mom has been discovering that the barn is
full of very neatly sorted things that are indeed tidied by category, but
had not been removed.
“Can we throw it out now?” Mom asked.
“Yes,” FS said, and went and put it into the garbage can. If it goes off
again out there, it won’t be audible in the house, or to the neighbors for
that matter.
(Your picture was not posted)