Lights, Action
We built our home in 2009. As with most homes, it has aged. Most particularly, light bulbs have gone out. Usually, it’s an easy repair. The under cabinet lights, however, were another matter. It seems they quit manufacturing the little fluorescent bulb the fixtures required. So, as bulbs died, I moved bulbs around to keep places lit that needed light. Particularly, the desk, where I sit and type. The final bulb died, just the other day. I was in the dark.
Luckily, I know people. People who do electrical things. The patriarch of those people came out yesterday and started replacing my fluorescent fixtures with LEDs. I am now brightly lit in two places. My desk and the counter in the utility room. The later has been dark for some time. It now has light. What I saw immediately was how dirty things had gotten. So, I cleaned, and dusted, and spruced. Interesting idea sprucing, typically it goes with the word up, as in I spruced up my countertops. But enough of that.
The patriarch returns this Sunday to finish. He needed two low powered drivers for the lights beneath the kitchen cabinets. In the meantime, I believe I will spackle and paint the wall at the desk because combined with the bright light and my new eyes, I can see quite clearly all the little nail holes and the like where things hung that no longer hang. I should get that done. It will be a good way to start the third year of the second decade of the 21st century.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale