January 4, 2013. Good grief! When we were away in June, the security company which monitors our home security system called my cell phone to tell me there had been a breach of the basement door. I didn't get the call immediately, so they called the police. When I got the voice message, I called our oldest daughter, the one who lives closest, and asked if she would check out the alarm. She went immediately to the house and waited for police, and waited, and waited. After 45 minutes, she returned home. I got another call telling me the police were at the gate but had lost the code. I called our oldest daughter, so she went back a second time. They walked around the exterior of the house and found nothing. They entered the house and found nothing. The police officer left but not before excusing her delay by saying the call came in on a shift change.
Same trip, a few days later, the security company called again. The second floor smoke detector had alerted. So, I called my oldest daughter who drove to the house to again find nothing. On my instruction she shut off the alarm system so no more alerts would go to the security company.
When we returned home, the security company serviced both the basement door and the second floor smoke detector, replacing the batteries. Then we left home again the week after Christmas. Just about the time we were 600 miles from home, the security company called to tell me that the second floor smoke detector had alerted. This time, our daughter was with us and could not respond to the house. I told the caller that I guessed the house would just have to burn. I also told her that she should not call it in to the fire department. I suspected it was another false alarm. If it wasn't, I didn't want to spend the next three months sifting through water-soaked fire debris.
When we got home, I changed the batteries again. We left on this trip two days ago. As soon as we entered the state of Oklahoma, guess who called. Right. The security company wanted me to know that the second floor smoke detector had alerted. "But, I just changed the batteries last night," I whined.
"Well, it could be the basement smoke detector, they are connected." That was the first time anyone ever told me they were connected. Aurghhhh. It was probably the basement smoke detector that alerted last week and I changed the wrong batteries. So, I called my oldest daughter and asked if she could replace the basement detector batteries. Uncomplainingly, she did so last night.
This morning, the security company called to report an alert in the second floor/basement smoke detector. "But, the batteries in both have been replaced this week. I'll set up a service call when we get home," I said, mustering as much patience as possible.
"Well, it may be working now, it says it has been restored," said she.
"Then why are you calling me?" I asked.
"I wanted to be sure you didn't want us to call the fire department," she responded.
"No, thank you and goodbye," I said. "Wait, may I have your home address?"
"Why?" she asked.
"We've talked so often this year, I feel like I should send you a Christmas card," I answered.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" she inquired, likely mustering as much patience as she could.
"No, thank you and goodbye," I answered.
Yes, you are right, there isn't much to report on this day of our trip. We drove from Austin to Padre Island, about a four-hour drive. The temperature is 50, but the wind makes it feel like 30. This is not what I expected. The pictures show Harvey sitting in front of the dunes separating us from the Gulf of Mexico. You'll have to imagine the shimmering blue Gulf waters just beyond the dunes. The blustery overcast sky gives you some feel for the the weather here.
There are two pictures of Annie, the second one after I opened the door for a moment. Fortunately, it is not as cold as she makes it appear. She is such an exaggerator.
We'll be here three nights. The weather will warm up Sunday to a high of 67. That's more like it!
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