Make The Beeping Stop!

TBG and I bought our first house in the mid-1980's.  Neither of us was particularly skilled in homeownership.  Daddooooo, however, was a true pro.  Upon entering the building for the first time, he headed straight for the basement and then the garage, taking note of the furnace and the water line and the circuit breakers and the insulation and whatever else was important.

Unfortunately, we paid very little attention to those details, which led to my frantic phone call several months later, crying that my basement was covered in a foot of water and the hose from the washing machine was doing a crazy dance against the wall.  

He told me where to go to turn off the water.  He never scolded me for my inattention to the important things.  He recommended several solutions to dispose of the water (using it as a kiddie pool for his grandchildren was his first choice) and wished me luck.

I wish he had told me to write down the location of that valve for future reference.  That's a lesson I wish I had learned.

Tonight, just as I was adding the last ingredients to the sauce pan, the smoke alarms began to beep.  Not just one alarm announcing it needed a new battery.  No, this was the whole system, in unison, blaring the world's most uncomfortable sound in a continuous stream of agony.  Neither of us noticed any smoke from the cooktop, not that it mattered.  A voice joined the beeping, saying FIRE over and over and over again.  

I was up to my elbows in dinner prep so TBG said he'd take care of it.  He twisted and disconnected and removed batteries and the noise never stopped.  He tried all manner of configurations of those actions on one of the two units we can reach with the short ladder.  Nothing worked.  

I turned the dinner down to low and went to Google.  The 3 Simple Steps to Stop the Beeping were, he promised, exactly what he'd done.  I went back to Google and scrolled to the third entry, which told me what I already knew, what I had learned years ago, what I promised myself I would never forget.  

There's a reset button in the middle of the faceplate.  You hold it down for 15 seconds.  You let go.  The whole system shuts down, one by one, as you listen.  

The importance of this cannot be over-emphasized.  Neither TBG nor I go up tall ladders any more; repairs like the one he tried are really too dangerous   But that button is big and raised, with a fairly flat surface, and can easily be pushed by the end of a broom or a mop while your feet are planted firmly on the floor.  

I knew this before Google reminded me.  I wish I had written it down.