Door bell wired wrong

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We have a door bell that is wired in such a way that it won't work unless the front entry way light is on??? The bell has a white and red thin guage wire going into the wall and I can't find where the wires go to? I have looked in the receptacle box for both the entry way light switch and light fixture but the bell wires are not found in either. I have also looked at the breaker box and surroundings but still can't find any such wires??? Aren't these a low voltage type of wires that go to a small transformer or something? I am only a novice at house wiring but too cheap to call an electrician. Any help or suggestions would be appreciated. Thanks! Steve
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sonds like the transformer is hooked into the kight so that it only gets power when the switch is on. may have to move it to a different wire where it currently is or may have to move it to a different location where there is constant power source for the transformer
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They go up into the attic to a small 24 volt transformer that is connected to 110v wiring - somewhere near your entry light. Unfortunately, yours is NOT connected to the proper 110v source.
Find the transformer and move it to another hot source that is not switched.
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wrote:

Better yet: Disconnect it, take it down in the cellar and put it there, which is where it belongs, especially if you have an unfinished attic full of fiberglass insulation.
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I agree. I never wanted to wire one but someone gave me a new one as a present last year with just transmitter/receiver, batteries in each. Don't think it cost much, works well, and no wiring.
Frank
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Steve wrote:

1. Put a CFL in the porch fixture and leave the sucker on all the time. 2. Tape over the doorbell button and encourage people to knock.
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My doorbell works. But, everyone knocks. If I put up a sign that said "Doorbell Broken", they'd probably stand there pressing the button for a half hour.
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The only people who come to the main door at my house are the Mormon missionaries and process servers. The others know how to come through the garage or around to the back doors.
Steve
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wrote

Process servers plural??? How many wives have you had? :-)
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wrote

I'd rather not comment, as there are things that were never proven in court ............
Steve
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Steve B wrote:

When I was about ten years old my father was working three jobs to keep the family fed. Sunday morning was the only day he got to sleep in. It was also the day that a Saturday sabbath sect would try to convert the Sunday sabbath heretics. The first time they called my mother told them never to return but that only raised their missionary fervor. The second time my father promised they would regret it if they wakened him again. When they still insisted that he should hear them out he developed an oddly determined look. The next Saturday he got his boss to let him off early and came home with a box of parts from his full time employers scrap heap. He spent five hours running pipes in the front porch overhead. When they rang the door bell the next morning the solenoid valve opened and they were soaked by the cold water coming from the newly installed fire sprinklers in the porch ceiling. When they returned the next Sunday carrying umbrellas my father had already opened the valve that supplied the cornice sprinklers in each corner of the porch that pointed upward from floor level. My mother, having lost all patience with these zealots had called the police when they had hove into sight. Not only did they get soaked again but they had to have a conversation with a harness bull who, like my mother, was Irish Catholic. My siblings and I watched in fascination as that policeman wrote each of them a citation for trespass. The next Sunday morning we awoke to find part of the catholic high school football squad camped out in cars in front of our house. I think my father was disappointed that my mother had run the zealots off. I suspect that he had several more Sundays worth of entertainment planned for us when my mother spoiled it all by loosing her temper. She knew how hard my dad was working and really got mad at these deluded folks. She had not noticed that my father was having a good time outwitting them. -- Tom Horne
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When I first moved into this house in the country, I was plagued by the JWs for several years. I learned that if you start to talk to them, even just to say 'not interested' they ain't gonna leae without a fight.
I thought I had fixed the problem the day I was woke up (working graveyard). Sleep in the nekkidness so threw on a bathrobe to answer the door...yep them again. Had a reasonable conversation going saying I really wasn't interested etc when they suddenly left. Gee, could it be that I was letting my robe gape open more and more?
No more heard from them for years then two years ago, there they were again.
I saw the Watchtower sticking out of their briefcase as I oopened the door. "I am not interested in your cult. Leave, NOW!"
Haven't seen them since.
Point is the only thing that works is outright rudeness.
Harry K
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What do you expect, if you continue to stand there? In my experience, it works just fine to tell them politely: "Thank you, but I'm not interested. Good day!" then turn around and go back in the house. [snip]

The only thing you've found, perhaps -- or tried -- and of course that doesn't bother them anyway: "Blessed are you when they persecute and revile you for my sake..."
The method I described above worked fine for me for a long time. Then, about eight years ago, I found an even better one. I tell the JWs we're Roman Catholic [true, BTW] and happy with it [also true].
They don't seem to want to stick around long after that.
At our previous house, the crucifix hanging on the living room wall was *clearly* visible as soon as the front door was opened. They just didn't seem to want to stick around.
I'm not really sure why.
But I'm not complaining.
Nor am I rude to the JWs. It's neither necessary, nor right.
--
Regards,
Doug Miller (alphageek at milmac dot com)
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wrote:

They used to catch me when I was outside doing yard work. They'd try the pamphlet trick. I'd point to the trash barrel and ask them to save me having to do it myself. Twice, I got an argument. I told them wasting resources was sinful, only agents of satan would do such a thing, and I dealt harshly with agents of satan on my land. They left quickly. In one case, I had a pitch fork in my hand and they left faster than quickly.
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ROTFL!
It's not necessary to be confrontational with them, though. The ones that have come to my door honestly don't seem interested in evangelizing Catholics. I'm guessing that the slight emphasis I lay on the word "Roman" may help in that regard, but I don't really know.
--
Regards,
Doug Miller (alphageek at milmac dot com)
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wrote:

I don't WANT to get confrontational with people, but when I say "No thanks", it means exactly that. These people wanted to get into a debate. My neighbors, who I was very friendly with, knew that because of my gardening addiction, there was never enough time to get it all done. So, the rule was "Ya wanna talk with me, you gotta walk with me". The JWs weren't worth explaining that to.
I got a similar routine from the cable TV company last week. I have the most basic service for $7.23 per month. 5 local channels plus 4-5 other weird ones they include. I just don't watch TV much.
Salesperson: We've got a special offer this month for digital cable. $XX for the first 3 months. Me: No thanks. I hardly ever watch TV, so I'm not interested. Salesperson: Digital cable has 4 trillion channels including the stamp collecting network blah blah blah... Me: Really, I'm not interested. I'd rather read a book or listen to music or something. Salesperson: Would you be interested in seeing a complete list of all the offerings on digital cable? Me: Ma'am, I told you I'm not interested. Salesperson: We hear that from a lot of customers, but they're often surprised once they actually try it. Me: Seora, no me gusta la televisin. Salesperson: Excuse me? Me: Well, you obviously don't understand English, so I thought I'd try Spanish. Did I say it correctly? Salesperson: {nervous laugh} What did it mean? Me: It meant "I didn't know deaf people could work in telemarketing".
Click
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snipped-for-privacy@milmac.com says...

Whatever you do, don't tell them that you're a Druid! A friend pulled that one and they never let him alone after. They made it their business to try to save him.
--
Keith

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wrote:

Damn. I wish I'd known that earlier. This explains all the subsequent visits.
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Hmmm... Wonder why they haven't ever done that with me. Maybe they think Catholics are beyond salvation?
--
Regards,
Doug Miller (alphageek at milmac dot com)
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says...

I think that for training purposes, they've attended Catholic weddings and funerals. As a result, they know you can withstand the lengthiest diatribes without being harmed.
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