Tag Archives: lighting

A little more stuffing.

 

There’s stuffing everywhere.

 

 

But one side of the ceiling was finished, complete with new light fixtures.

 

 

Were they properly measured and equally spaced?

 

 

They were not… which drives me to distraction every time I look at them. But no one was fried to a crisp and they actually work, so we’ll take our blessings where we find them.

 

 

Stuffing then moved to the other side.

 

 

And things started piling up on my porch, which will not be tolerated.

 

 

Wires for the other side were moved.

 

 

And strung amongst the stuff.

Yes, there are 5 doors leaning up against the wall.

Do we need 5 extra doors?

I think you know the answer to that by now…..

 

 

Let there be light….

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Bright and early Sunday morning the husband and his friend were hard at it.

Removing the stuffing they’d previously stuffed and drilling holes for the continuous feed wires to slip through.

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This, as you can imagine…. was a royal pain in the  *ss.

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But finally,  it was ready for a light fixture.

And my husband used the pool table as an auxiliary ladder.

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Viola.

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A light fixture.

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Which receives the husband’s very technical and OSHA approved tug test.

Just kidding, OSHA reps run screaming in horror from any project my husband oversees.

More stuffing, more plywood.

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Light fixture number two was not at all cooperative, and adjustments I don’t even want to contemplate were made.

This might be a good time to mention the time my husband installed a ceiling fan in our living room in North Carolina.

It took an electrician 2 hours to undo that mess.

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But after an hour of tinkering, and some oh so colorful language…

Fixture two was up.

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Were the proper amount of decorative screws used?  They were not.

Was it in perfect alignment with the first light fixture?  It was not.

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But since this simple job took them over 5 hours?

I doubt they cared.

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  • For informational purposes only – the husband can not decide whether he wants to put ceiling fans in between the lights or just another light, hence the open middle space.

And we’re stuffing again.

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Work continued on the big barn ceiling insulation project and one corner was finished.

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And as I knew would happen, the covered pool table became a repository for stuff.

(Not to be confused with a suppository for stuff, because no one wants the husband’s stuff there.)

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On this day I was given the task of hauling more  useless crap  treasure upstairs.

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In case you were wondering…. the answer to the question how much stuff is too much stuff?  has yet to be determined.

Christ, there’s even stuff hanging from the rafters.

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Antique collectibles…. or torture chamber implements?

Tough call.

But downstairs, stuffing progress was made.

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And yes, there’s a bathroom sink on the love seat.

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I think it looks quite comfortable, don’t you.

Was it our sink? No.

Did we need an ugly ass shell shaped sink from the 1970’s? No.

But we have it all the same, because….

Say it with me now:

It was free!

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One side of the ceiling was fully stuffed when the husband realized he had a problem.

I would tell you his problem was not listening to me 5 years ago when he insisted on putting these ugly, bright as the surface of the sun, fluorescent lights in…

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And running them on one electrical line with no junction boxes, but I doubt he would admit it…. because, you know. Men.

But now that he’s outfitting his man cave with a heat pump, insulation and a ceiling …. he’s changed his mind about those ugly ass lights and wants to put up these more attractive, appropriately rustic fixtures instead.

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Which is great, except there are no junction boxes and they’re all on the same line.

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Not being an electrician, he’s been pondering this predicament for a while…. and was forced to set up temporary lighting. (Which throws an equivalent BTU level as the bonfire at Burning Man. I swear our electric meter was spinning so fast there was smoke…. and the stock holders of Central Maine Power were chortling with glee.)

If he figures this all out without electrocuting himself and/ or burning down the barn, I’ll be sure to let you know.