eating by candlelight

We're not really eating by candlelight. That would require too much effort on my part. And I promise there would be hot wax spilled on the kitchen table and eventually, a fire of epic proportions.

That's how we roll. Other people spy lovely taper candles and smile at the beautiful ambiance they cast. Not me. I momentarily get a far-a-way look in my eye as I picture Moose knocking it all over in an attempt to tackle his sippy cup or Schnickle hip-checking the table as she flits to Frank Sinatra. The far-a-way look quickly turns to panic as I quickly set any fire-starters beyond the reach of little mishaps.

But enough about candles and Sinatra. This post is supposed to be about ME!

'Cause I accomplished something! Shocking, I know.

I did this . . .

two of these . . .

and one over the kitchen island that broke as I was finishing it. But we won't talk about that one. Because I might get persnickety. Or ornery. Or both. Here's where it was.

It hung for one brief moment before a spring sprang and sprung my worn-thin patience. It was here awaiting three energy efficient light bulbs. And hopefully the bugger will be hung again someday after I get a new part or light fixture. But I'm still cooling my jets. It's been only four weeks. My jets needed quite a lot of cooling. They needed the same amount of cooling as my bi- and tri-cepts did after hanging it.

But, I digress.

After three months of no lights (or mirrors) in the master bath and eating by the pale light cast from the kitchen spots, it's done. Of course, it took me a while. But this short and stubborn thirty-something single-handedly hung these buggers.

With only 4 or 5 calls to my dad.

And they haven't even fallen down yet!