When you’re renting you learn a few things about what should and should not be in a house. For example it is a legal requirement for a landlord to make sure the heating works, that the rain stays out the house and that the property comes supplied with a fire alarm.
Whilst in The Flat, The Hubby and I learnt to deal with a broken boiler and poor installation (we bought extra duvets) and when the rain decided to make a shower out of our toilet (we worked around a carefully positioned bucket over a year), but at least we had a working fire alarm.
If you’ve read this blog before you will have probably gathered that we had a string of problems at our old flat, so when we moved it was like breath of fresh air so much so that, for a time, we were prepared to ignore one small little issue…
It didn’t start straightaway… Like anything when you go somewhere new it takes a while to recognise quirks. To begin with I suspect we were too busy moving boxes, making cups of tea, unpacking bags and building furniture to pay much attention to our unwelcome guest (*beep*). But as soon as the background noise died down we noticed it. And we have spent the last three weeks wishing we could un-notice.
Our new landlord seems interested in her property (certainly a lot more of than our previous landlord at The Flat) and as a responsible landlord had installed a “Fire Angel”, a charmingly named device aimed at saving lives. Sadly it looked like the cherubic device was going to drive us mad before it had had the chance.
The “Fire Angel” hung happily from the lightbulb in our corridor, contentedly recharging itself from our mains electricity whenever the light was switched on. Unfortunately for us this angelic tenant had a rather un-restful habit of reminding us that it was there. Every single minute. It was enough to drive anyone insane.
Do you know how many minutes there are in a hour? How many hours there are a day? “Fire Angel” does… Day or night for the past three weeks “Fire Angel” has beeped. It’s amazing how much you can sleep through even when it’s setting your teeth on edge and all you want to do is smother it, throw it out the window, or set it on fire. In fact, we soon reached the stage where we were fantasising about stuffing it into a sock and smashing it with a wrench. We endured 30240 beeps (yes, we counted) until our landlord finally caved in and agreed for us to throw the damn thing in the bin…
We knew it wouldn’t go quietly.
I remember seeing an episode of Friends where Phoebe has an issue with her firearm. The incessant beeping keeps her up all night even when she tries to rid herself of it. There was no way that was going to happen to us.
They say that two is company and three is a crowd, but when The Hubby and I went for a weekend away our Fire Angel joined us. And we knew that for the Fire Angel, it would be a one-way trip…
Ah. Peace at last.