Domesticity

A couple of months ago, I came downstairs one morning to discover my kitchen ceiling was leaking. It took two visits from a plumber (because the shutoff main for this block of townhouses is inside one of the end units) and $600 to find and fix the leak (upstairs toilet in a bathroom I never use). And it left this gaping hole in the ceiling:

I thought to myself, “Self—this will be a forcing function. Instead of calling in a wallboard and painting expert for this hole, take this opportunity to install the recessed lighting you’ve needed in this kitchen for the seven years you’ve lived here. Remediate that single source of light, which throws a shadow over everything you do in this room. Do it! Now!”

Well, as I mentioned, this was two months ago. Turns out the forcing function wasn’t the huge hole in the ceiling, but the cold LED light bulb I put in the one ceiling lamp in the space. Because every single time I walk into the kitchen and flick on the light, I feel like confessing to something.

So the electrician came yesterday to spec out the project. Turns out that pendant lights are out of the picture because of the swing of one of the over-counter cabinets. So, just recessed lights. But no shadows while I'm working. 

 

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