Well, it turns out our fire alarm works okay. At least the waking us up from a deep sleep part of it does. Whoever put the smoke alarms in here did not mess around: there are three of them, mains powered, with one on either side of the kitchen, and one in our bedroom. All of the rented accommodation we have lived in prior to this has gone for the single battery powered type, with – possibly by law – the battery removed by a former tenant who had evidently been driven mad by its beeping, but these are tamper proof. And they are loud. LOUD. I woke up so startled I didn’t even know what I was, let alone where I was or what to do next. Fortunately the other half was more alert and managed to turn the light on, whereupon the alarm stopped. Perhaps it was afraid of the dark?
Because the other part of being a fire alarm, it’s not so good at. The detecting actual fires part – or at least the knowing when the house is not burning down and hence not going off part. It is already quite squeamish about toast, but that’s par for the course for a smoke detector – as part of the government’s anti-obesity drive, they’re set to go off whenever someone goes back for a second round. We can live with that, we just shut the door before recklessly cramming more carbohydrate in the toaster. But there was no fire last night, not even a peckish burglar. We went back to bed puzzled and lay in the dark waiting for our heart rates to return to something approaching normal. I think I finally fell asleep again at 2.
So, in one sense, I’m reassured. We now know that the fire alarm will wake us up even if we were actually already dead. That’s good. We can consider that part tested. But once is enough, unless there’s an actual fire, okay? Otherwise it may end up having some sense talked into it by the other half. With a baseball bat.
I’m impressed you’re still going to bed at a sensible time, having lived the life of leisure for a few weeks now. Most people I know who are resting stay up until four in the morning, restlessly roaming the electric internet. Filthy place. Filthy.
I can’t really get the hand of this going to bed late lark. For me, 11 o clock seems daring enough, school night or not. Fortunately, the internet is filthy at any hour
That is very odd behavior. Maybe it works on the often (mis?)quoted Zen principle that a butterfly flapping it’s wings in one part of the world causes disasters on the other side… so, someone, somewhere on the planet is having toast; and maybe it’s burning.
That sounded so much better in my head.
It’s a mystery. But at least it left us in peace last night… long may it last
I’ve got a Dulit toaster where you turn the dial thingy for the length of time you want it to heat the bread. I also have a mains powered, tamper proof, overly sensitive and VERY loud smoke alarm. Thankfully the former allows me fine control over how long my bread is toasted for allowing me not to set of the latter, no matter how many rounds I do. (For those that are interested the first lot go to just over the 2 mark, just under the 2 mark for the second, and halfway between the 2 and the 1 mark for all subsequent pieces – I don’t get out much).
We’ve got the same kind, and I know the theory, it’s just remembering to put it into practise when you’re in a hot-buttered-toast feeding frenzy
Our smoke detectors go off if we are using a sander, I think it’s the fine dust. Obviously (?) you hadn’t got someone sanding whilst you were in bed, but the fact that it stopped when the light was switched on makes me think there may have been a surge or blip in the electricity supply and perhaps that triggered it. (If I sound as if I know what I’m talking about it just shows how full of it I can be!)