New lights for the onslaught of autumn
I did it. I went down to the basement. I unhooked the aluminum ladder that stays hooked to the ceiling for most of each year. I did the twist and turn to get it outside, and I left the ground. That’s worth mentioning, given that it doesn’t happen very often. I hate heights. I hate going up on my ladder, where the trip down can be much faster than the trip up.
But, after going out and purchasing exactly the battery needed to restore my weather station, I wasn’t going to let a little fear get in the way. And, to my surprise, things went well. Up, open, replace, close, down. See, wasn’t that easy? Someone else had additional plans for my lightness of being.
The lights under the eaves, to be exact. Pot lights, with cheap floodlamps. Almost all burned out. We had the “dark house on the street”. And so I made a run to the local hardware emporium, where they sell the things in sixpacks. Guess I’m not the only client in this area.
Scientifically, it doesn’t make sense that the bulbs burn out at different times. If I were more analytical, I’d open a spreadsheet, set up a data entry page and record the dates of installation and demise (approximately). I won’t… but I could. We should be good until spring, given that I don’t leave my lights on 24/7 (at least, I try not to).
I didn’t fall down. I didn’t break any windows with the wildly waving ladder. I put the thing away when I was done. In my humble opinion, I deserve a trophy.
