Yesterday afternoon I spent some time getting ready for trick-or-treaters. I actually took the candy out of the bags and poured all of it into a container (what can I say? I was feeling fancy.), and around 5 o’clock I checked our front stoop to make sure that there were no shoes or garden implements or Nerf swords to get in our visitors’ way. I decided that it would probably be a good idea to turn on the outside lights, especially since little kids sometimes trick-or-treat earlier in the evening, so I stepped back inside, flipped all the switches, and immediately noticed that nothing happened with the lights on either side of our front door. Not even a flicker.
I walked back outside and checked to see if the bulbs were blown, and when I realized they weren’t, I figured I might need to tighten them. We’ve had ish-ahs with our front lights for the last year or so, and we’ve known that we were going to replace them at some point. But since I have apparently turned into a person who is going to sit back and wait for something to BLOW SLAP UP before looking for a replacement, I’ve just been biding my time. I figured that the lights were fine – and since they’re original to the house, I felt a little sentimental and nostalgic about them.
Which, let’s face it, IS WEIRD.
Anyway, I tried to tighten one of the bulbs, but nothing happened, so I moved to the second bulb, and when I tried to tighten it, I heard a loud “POP” behind the light fixture. I thought maybe the bulb had blown, so I walked inside to grab another from the laundry room.
But then I noticed that our foyer looked a little dark.
And the driveway lights weren’t on anymore.
And the lights in the half bath and laundry room weren’t working.
And OH, NO.
Since I like to think that I am very handy (even though I can break just about anything in a fraction of a second, as evidenced by the fact that, well, LIGHTS NOT WORKING), I walked down to the basement and flipped a few switches on the electrical panel. When I couldn’t seem to find a solution to the fact that we were without power on the front side of our house, I quickly implemented plan B, which was to sit down on the couch and catch up on Twitter while I waited for my husband to get home.
Clearly I am very resourceful.
D walked in the door about five minutes later, and he had barely put down his bag before I launched into the issue at hand: “Hey-all-the-lights-in-the-front-of-the-house-blew-out-and-I-can’t-fix-them-even-though-I-went-in-the-basement-and-flipped-some-things-but-I-don’t-know-what-to-do-did-I-mention-that-I-can’t-fix-them?”
“Hi,” he replied. “How are you? Did you have a good day?”
See? That’s how he does me. I try to have a perfectly good freak out about a home improvement something-or-other, and he has the nerve to be calm.
So he walked back outside, took a look at the lights, and quickly uttered seven words I was not expecting to hear: “Um, this light bulb is on fire.”
I present you with Exhibit A.
Well he was not kidding.
ENOUGH WITH THE HOME REPAIRS.
All I can guess is that our house was built in 1973, and almost 40 years later, it is tired.
Come to think of it, I know exactly how the house feels. I can relate to it on many, many levels.
Anyway, D couldn’t get the lights to come back on, either, so now we’re now adding an electrician to our list of BFFs. Hopefully he’ll get along beautifully with our plumber, our AC guy, and the guy installing our cooktop. I’m thinking of inviting all of them to our Thanksgiving dinner. I hear the cooktop guy makes a mean squash casserole.
I have to say, though, that there have been a couple of things that have made me laugh in the midst of all the house craziness. Here is one of them:
He was George Washington for Halloween. CRACKED ME UP. Plus, I’m grateful that I took this picture mere minutes before the lights went BOOM. It’s a lovely memento of a simpler time when we were unaware of complications with our wiring.
And then, this morning, it was like Ye Olden Days when I was putting Velcro rollers in my hair.
Caroline Ingalls would be so proud, don’t you think?