Saved by the Bell…
My kitchen nook and home office are one in the same. I face south toward the cottonwoods and a large moss-covered maple pondering the start of my day and the words for this very blog. Just outside my window, a relatively new fenced-in area keeps Boz and Gracie out of the way of indifferent UPS and FedEx drivers and off of the limbs of dear neighbors who walk with a cane or visitors who find no charm in cheeky bulldogs.
For some reason, I rarely hear when a visitor opens and walks through the gate, up the stairs, through my mudroom to the interior kitchen door, which is usually open. Trouble is by the time they reach that point, I’m usually trapped in the nook sporting boxers and a spaghetti-stained t-shirt, or standing at the stove singing along to Merle Haggard or Aretha Franklin. Not a pretty sight for the uninitiated (or initiated for that matter).
I must have mentioned to my mother how I don’t hear approaching visitors, because this week she sent me a handsome solution to being caught off guard: a bell for my garden gate. What looks to be a cow bell, enjoys a wonderful patina and hand-hammered pedigree. Two hooks later and the bell was tested for sound. Whether opened gently or with purpose, the gate now shares the action audibly in the form of a bass-based clunk, a ga-long of sorts. Success. I am now safe from impromptu scrutiny and remarks about by sartorial choices, or lack there of, and my visitors from being bowled over by two beefy bulldogs. Thanks Mom!
And just in case you want to hear what to bell sounds like, click image below.