You have to put this in your blog

Ron and I concluded this, about the same time.  "This has to go in the blog"

I get very upset when the neighbors have a party: the kids come over ringing the doorbell late at night, demanding yard access or their soccer ball returned immediately.  I told them, more than once, not to come over, because my husband is "very sick" and they were "waking him up".  Yet they continued.

It got to the point this year I asked, flatly, what they do with the other neighbors.  "We wait for them to throw it back over the fence." 

"That's our deal now" and they did behave during the next party. 

But I'm sure, they'll "forget" and come banging on my door when Ron's asleep.  He tends to fall asleep around 6-8 PM.  He's an old man; he's sick. I don't see why this is so difficult to understand.  Especially when they don't do this to the other neighbors. 

Anyway, I told Ron, I find it so upsetting because they ring the doorbell and wake him up. 

"Why not turn off the doorbell?" Ron replied.  "I'm sure there's a switch." 

Good point.  Why the hell not? 

I shelved it. 

We have between one and two dozen houses, on the street.  Carolyn lives across the street and down a ways, in a brick one story.  We are the only clapboard house on our street. 

I got her vitamins one day, along with my Amazon package.  After I put my things away, I took the package to her house.  Not only did she have a steel security door, she'd also eliminated the doorbell.  I could see some kind of putty covering the hole. 

Well, it's not just me. 

Last night Mr. Carolyn got carted off in an ambulance.  I took her a care package today. 

I would hope I am a sensitive person.  That I have empathy for other people in pain and would want to salve that. 

That's for God to decide.  If you see that, it's Him in me. 

I saw the "doorbell" again.  I decided to "fix" mine, one way or another.  I would start at the box, and if I couldn't fix it in the house I would just take it off the front. 

"The only time we need it" I told him "Is Halloween."  Have you ever had a paratransit driver ring your doorbell at 4 AM when you're having a bowel movement on the toilet?  It's a good thing I was on the toilet, let me tell you.  Some of them ring it like I owe them money and they want it back now. 

Or it's a salesperson. Rarely a delivery, but they knock also. 

I.  Just.  Don't.  Like.  Doorbells.  "It's for people to bother you" I told Ron "They want things."

I dragged a chair over to the wall and considered climbing aboard.  I then considered the lousiness of ending up in the emergency room on my birthday. 

I got the stepladder.  It held me.  I took off the cover and a spring went flying.   I tested it.  Still working. 

Ron was upset, at first, I was doing this.  But then I reminded him it upsets me greatly and aggravates my PTSD.  He tried to give me the "suck it up" speech but I ignored him. 

It absolutely infuriates me when little brats ring the doorbell and wake up my husband.  He has a terrible time sleeping. 

"It's got two wires" I told him.   "Each wire goes to a screw.  I'm going to loosen one screw and pull the wire out.  I'll be able to put it back if we change our minds, later."  I did that.  Ding dong. 

[censored]  I considered "doing" the other screw, but then decided the copper wire still had contact with the metal screw.  I pulled it out carefully, went out front, and rang the bell. 

Blessed silence. 

I'm delighted.  Ron's happy I'm happy, even though I think he believes I'm "being wierd".  I don't care. 

I ordered a pizza, a hybrid cookie/brownie, and some bread bites, from the pizza place tonight.  I heard the knock-knock just fine.  :)