I’m sitting here looking out at a beautiful crisp November morning.  The sky is clear and blue.  There is a lovely frost on the ground.  There isn’t a breath of wind and the sun is shining.

Am I enjoying it?

No!

Why not?

Because there is a ****ing burgler alarm screeching away on the house next door and spoiling the peace.  It has been screaming for the last half hour and my head is wrecked.

Why do people have the damned things?  They are worse than useless.  I have yet to see anyone run to catch a would-be burgler.  When an alarm goes off, people just mutter profanities about the owner and then try to ignore it.

As a security device it has the opposite effect.  If I were a housebreaker, I would seek out houses where the alarm is going off.  I’d know that I’m safe.  I’d know that the neighbours are all indoors with the windows closed. I’d know that the majority of neighbours are wishing that the house would be burgled just to teach the householder a lesson.

I used to live in The City.  It was a nightmare there.  Every morning, we would be woken by the dawn chorus – a cacophony of house alarms and car alarms.  There would be bells and sirens and everything in between.  Presumably the dimwits would open their front doors to go to work and forget that they had set the alarm.  Fair enough to do it once, but every morning??

I suppose one good thing is that I now have a new profession in my retirement.

Now, where did I leave that crowbar?