I added a chicken. The Queen Anne's lace lost a tiny floret, ah, we'll say a bear ate it |
Too high now and cord isn't hung correctly |
Wire correct length and cord swagged. Now I need to introduce more fuchsia to this corner |
I added a chicken. The Queen Anne's lace lost a tiny floret, ah, we'll say a bear ate it |
Too high now and cord isn't hung correctly |
Wire correct length and cord swagged. Now I need to introduce more fuchsia to this corner |
It was a beautiful weekend full of nostalgia. I didn't get to spend the day with my mother, but the next best thing is the charming Auntie Bernie and I got a double helping of her! Too many people Bernie and I loved have passed and she witnessed my beloved Gramps go. I had the honor of witnessing my mother bear untold misery with joy and with her philosophical outlook not ceding an inch. I have had a miraculous life, thanks to her, and I need to commemorate her after an eventful Mother's Day.
She skated. I don't know her record, and I don't know who to ask, but I do know that she attended regional sectionals in the old ice rink in Flushing Meadows Park. She and her mother drove down from Boston and I can just picture the two of them on the Parkway missing the exit over and over again. After all that effort, she did not compete in the national competition that year because it was held in California. She also qualified in pairs and quads, which needs to make a comeback. My passion for ice skating is from her.
Things went wrong in my childhood, naturally. I once was sent to the principal's office for successfully scaling a drainpipe to the 2nd floor. I carved "I hate Mom" into the softened wood of our window sashes when I was deprived of some long ago forgotten luxury. She absolutely could not deal with my grass stained knees. Normal stuff. So I was woefully unprepared for when, at 10, the wheels came off the bus and I moved from my idyllic New England town to Cleveland. Poor Cleveland is finally failing on its own merits instead of its poor comparison to Rhode Island. Puberty timed its entrance perfectly, making this life's earthquake all the more difficult, but as much as I was up against, I had a secret weapon: my three ladies. My sisters seemed like my world, because we were on a different level than Mom, but I'm the oldest, and Mom and I had a special friendship that was kind of unhealthy, I am realizing now. We built up a boogey man for our problems, and he had a face and name: Dad. Despite the fact that she was brutally ripped from her home and family, she faced the Midwest with her typical spirit of total dominance, done with a beautiful smile.
I had my struggles with her, of course. Most notably, London. Oh, my, how we argued over that! I broached the topic one night of maybe trying out London for a summer because my roommate was, not because I actually wanted it. I paid for school on my own and was practical, and so it wasn't really an option, until my parents went code level orange because I floated an idea. Then my mind was made up and I was going to London whether I felt like it or not. Three months later, when I told my parents that we needed to talk, she said, "You're not going to London." I can be dominating, too, Mom, so it was too late. The tickets were bought, passport obtained, and it wasn't as if they could threaten to cut me off. Quite the chess move on my part! I was going to be self-made and visit abroad! And, so, I did.
So, I did do it solo financially the minute I was an adult, but whose idea was this? As long as I remember, I was going to college. Then I realized there was no money for it, but that was okay, because I'd been working hard at school which came easily to me, so I got grants and scholarships. A complete success story and I did it alone. I went back to London, then Paris. I got a frantic phone call one night from her because there was a problem with the lines and she made me pick a date to return and so I did: Thanksgiving. I wish I could have lived out my little adventure on my own time instead of artificially truncating it, but I was breaking Mom's heart.
So I returned to fucking Grand Rapids, Michigan, to live near Mom and Dad. It was a memorable year! Dad insisted on going to swim with me and always wanted to race. Mom did her pristine breast stroke so as to preserve the 'do. I introduced her to my date and she said, "Nice to meet you, Kurt". We left and he said, "That's weird! Your mom called me by my brother's name!". I had no idea what my date's first name was and had to look him up in the phone book. It turns out, he was unlisted, but not his brother! In any case, I had a true friendship with both of my parents, I guess you could say. Although, if you do say that, I'll have you know that Dad was a friend of my real friend. I hated that they were a package deal.
Picnic at one of Mom's secret beaches and a custom summer dress for Lucy. |
It is not fair that my friend is gone. I was planning on at least 10 more years. But, I have to look at the bright side which is that I had her for 53 years. And as for self-made, there is no such thing. Everyone once needed help. But there is such a thing as society-failed and it is only the luck of the draw that makes us one or the other. Many of my students were facing puberty without a solid parental figure helping. It is of course usually the female that helps these "self-made" individuals. I am fortunate. I had the best.
I just celebrated my daughter's 17th birthday at a wonderful Peruvian restaurant. Reminder: I have a minimum wage part-time job. She has a pretty awful parent, but I like to think that I am the parent she chooses to align with. I know that 95% of the rationale for that is our shared female connection. She is as independent as it is possible to be at that age but still in that weird area where she relies on us for cash and rides and food and - basically we're staff. Then we're vacation rentals and ATMs, I get it. I want to make college easier than it was for me, at least financially. She did the real work, though, which is getting her education and taking it seriously.
I may be the only generation who got to sort of envision a future that actually panned out. Mom thought 4 years of college was impractical, because lengthening college shortened the amount of time she'd need to work, which would just be until she became a mother. Until me. But, ten short years later, she was back in the work force and I had to "prepare" dinner twice a week. She could have been the leader of the universe, but she constrained herself using the information she had available at the time. I lived the dream for a moment: I had a career in a male-dominated industry and I made a killing. I made a nest egg and now I can enjoy it. I did it, Mom! I wish you were here to celebrate your success. I wish, I wish, I wish...
Rugs these days are pretty cheap, and I use both meanings of cheap. I found a beautiful looped pile ocean themed rug in yuppie central's garbage night, but upon unrolling at home, it was pulled by cat claws and, well... more cat activity occurred sadly. If I'm being honest, though, an underwater theme is great for my hall, but maybe a bit too predictable for this Ocean Stater. I need something quirkier and less practical than sparkly corals. I needed custom.
Top, left most orange flower looks like Chicken Little in profile |
I've been lowballing tri-state residents for years before someone accepted! |
Most tutorials say to just switch out the ceiling end connection with an outlet, wrap the correct wires into the screw socket, and voila! But, I don't have an outlet on my ceiling and so I needed a longer cord. I originally bought the clear kind, but didn't realize that the Sputnik is grounded and the transparent kind I bought only had the 2 prongs, so back it went. The second time I went for something special, since I realized after I bought the transparent cord that it didn't have an on-off switch, it wasn't grounded and the fixture was, AND I found much prettier cords. Everything at ColorCord.com is beautiful!
So pretty. I need an extension cord in this color! |
It took forever, but I figured out how to get the canopy off. Luckily, the chandy has a wire to attach it to the ceiling so that the weight doesn't pull out the wires. But the canopy wasn't just attached to the bar, but also to the wire that holds the weight, which prevented me from getting it off, until I figured out that there's a button on the bottom of the wire attachment that allows it to come off. If I hadn't figured that out, there would be an extra piece at the base of the wire, because I could only manage to move this adjustable canopy finish cap forward to make the wire shorter and shorter. I backed it out okay eventually because it had a hidden button. For a moment, I thought I'd need the jaws of life or a blowtorch to remove the canopy. And, since this is a knock off Sputnik, the wiring was not standard, and my electrical skills are weak. It is a 24 light fixture, and I ended up having to take each arm's wires out and marking the hot wires. Just like in Electrical Engineering 101, I thought my first attempt was golden and the second! I even visited the hardware store to purchase a current tester, but they were double what I was willing to pay. This was the incentive I needed and I did it right finally! If everything was easy, there would be no sense of accomplishment. It works!
In the end, I got the chandelier for $50, plus I had to buy the cord with the switch and a grounded outlet, which cost me $43.93, and new wire nuts cost $2.99. Labor was free but not inexpensive. Under $100. Not including 24 light bulbs. And, a ceiling hook, which, I already had, but I bought another - oops! I will probably eventually find wire nuts - it might be time to organize my hardware. And, a plug converter that I need now because my outlet isn't grounded! Such a rollicking success!
On the one hand, it is not within the vernacular of the room... |
Glimpse into my in-process home and future starburst area |
Ah, she took it down! She CAN be motivated to do things in her room! I never tightened the ceiling hook in her ceiling because I was meeting resistance; not the type of spectacle I want to try on my own - and I tried DIY electrical! Sputnik starburst will live over our refrigerator. Now I regret the cloth cord, because kitchen surfaces should be non-porous. Oh, well, this can be swapped out again for the transparent cord when this bright, cherry pink is coated in grease and mystery sauce. For now, we have more than enough task lighting and my electrical skills are back up-to-date.
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