Ding Dong

When we lived in Florida the doorbell would ring and either the Jehovah's Witnesses were out there, or the Mormons. This used to piss me off a great deal because the doorbell was on the gate at the front of our 'compound'. That meant I had to walk all the way to the front just to find out that some religious nut wanted to convert me. Now that we're in Chicago I've found out that they do the same thing here. Instead of having to walk to the front gate, I now have to walk down stairs to yell at them. Although sometimes I just open the window next to the porch and yell at them from there. Lately I've noticed that nobody is ringing my doorbell. It's as if they gave up trying to save me from Satan. Have they all decided that I'm not worth the cursing and screaming? It turns out that is not the case. I figured it out the past week when Mark's brothers were visiting. My doorbell is broken. Not only is the doorbell not working, but the buzzer that opens the door remotely from the kitchen is not buzzing. You ring my doorbell, and I buzz you in. That's how it goes. So this is a serious problem. Not for me so much as for Dennis who lives on the second floor. I have Scout keeping watch for our floor. Nobody gets past her without some kind of notice given. A short whiney sound if it's somebody she knows, to an insane barking fit if a stranger dares step on our porch. Anyway, I have to fix that doorbell and buzzer. I've tracked it down to the transformer in the basement and have ordered a new one from Amazon. Yes, I know. Amazon is the great devil of retail, but it is so convenient. When the new transformer arrives today I will try to replace the one that has burned out. Hopefully without getting electrocuted.