Sunday, February 27, 2011
I am not fond of bright lights. I prefer soft, subdued ones. My sixty-year-old home reflects that in every room. Unfortunately, aging has dimmed my husband’s outlook. His eyes ain’t what they used to be, and neither are mine. He’s been complaining for some time now, that it’s way too dark in here. He insists he needs more light. I have been resistant to any change, particularly in my kitchen. I like it the way it is. We have a lamp sitting on our kitchen table and a decorative florescent fixture overhead, plus lights under the kitchen cabinets, over the sink and stove. It’s bright enough. But my husband’s persistent nagging has taken its toll on me. I felt sorry for him. I finally relented and agreed to get a new ceiling light, so he’d shut up. This way we’d take the lamp off the table. He was thrilled. We immediately went looking for ideas at our local home improvement stores. It took us a while to find one we both liked. But there it was, on display at Menards. My husband thought it was perfect. Each cylinder on the fixture held up to a 100 watt bulb. There were four cylinders. Do the math… that’s 400 watts of light. I was mortified. It was going to be too bright. How much light do you really need? My husband agreed to use 60 watt bulbs instead. I conceded. Once that was settled, we purchased the fixture. Little did we know what can of worms we were opening. But the commitment was made. Unfortunately once we got it home, circumstances with my husband’s health prevented its installation. So it sat out in the garage unopened for about six months. Last week, my husband decided he was finally up to the challenge and wanted to tackle the project. He was so excited by the prospect of BRIGHT light, he was willing to overlook anything standing in the way of it. When he took off the old florescent light, he accused me of cutting corners, years before. He suggested we now had a problem because of it. Apparently, eight years ago, I had painted the ceiling, blush beige. I hadn’t taken down the light, that was there. I painted around it. (probably because he wasn't home to remove it) As a result, we now have a large rectangular white spot on the ceiling. What were we going to do about it? Did this mean he couldn’t put up his beloved NEW fixture? I looked at it for a minute and told him, it meant, obviously... we’d have to repaint the ceiling. BUT because of my knees (up and down on a ladder), I couldn’t do it. He wasn’t sure he could either because of his vertigo. That meant budgeting for someone else to do it. We agreed we’d get it done by the month of May. Now, we have to find somebody to do it. In the meantime, my husband put up the new light. It’s beautiful. The only problem is, we now need to get new kitchen cabinets, too. The original ones look so-ooo bad in the brighter light, it isn’t funny. And there ain't enough money to replace them. Guess... we should have left well enough, alone.