Some crazy long time ago – seriously, like back at the beginning of the summer – the fluorescent bulbs in the hideous kitchen light started acting all temperamental. For awhile, you could tap on the light fixture with a broom (or grill spatulas were the perfect height) and the light would blink back into being. This was important because my kitchen has very little light and I am generally in favor of being able to see what I’m doing.
But, of course, after awhile the tapping-the-bulbs trick stopped working. I conned my boyfriend into switching out the light bulb, and that worked for a little while. But before long we were back to tapping the light into submission.
And then, even that stopped working. We were thrown into darkness. But, faced with possibly replastering the ceiling after swapping out the light fixture? That didn’t really work for me, either. So for long, long months, we became accustomed to living by the light of the dining room, living room, the one recessed light over the sink, and occasionally the light in the ventahood over the stove. It was small and ridiculous, but people get used to anything.
Until they can’t any more.
Saturday morning I finally bought the light fixture that I’d had my eye on. Jeff helped switch it out that very afternoon, and before long, this happened:
We were all so tickled at the novelty of having light in the kitchen again. I could actually see what I was cooking (or pouring or cleaning). I went with the dimmer artsy bulbs, because they look cooler and I figured any light after no light would work.
I used the same bulb in the new dining room light – we changed that out, too, so we would have quasi-matching light fixtures and because the old fixture was so ugly.
It looks like it’s brighter than it is. I’ll probably switch that bulb out to something stronger, just so we have strong, actual light in one of the rooms. I maybe wish the light was a tiny bit more dramatic for such a big space, but I didn’t really like the rest of the options, and I was getting this done now. That, or it never would get done.
And so we are all reveling in our light, and it was good. It’s the small things, folks.