I know that changing out light fixtures is, like, the very last thing on the list of priorities when it comes to making a house livable, but I have an excuse. Really.
When I was in Chicago visiting The Mothership (sorry; “Crate and Barrel Outlet” to you regular people) I picked up an enormous drum shade for fifteen bucks. For those in the market for giant drum shades, that’s practically free. (Jiminy, even Nathan knows that.) He was originally sixty bucks; still a good deal but way more than my frugal self would ever pay. I fully expected to ship it back to Colorado, but because of all the hullaballoo over delayed house closings, Nathan got to drive it back all by his little lonesome. It was a tense partnership, I’ll have you know. This giant shade eating up valuable cargo space. At long last, it made it here. And then it sat in the garage, taking up valuable cargo space in there. We had to unpack it. But there was no place to put it. Except… UP.
Up it went. We hit up Lowes and got a pendant light kit and a giant bulb. The kit is designed to hold a glass bell, so it took a little creative disassembly to get the giant shade to fit.
When it comes to lighting, EVERYTHING unscrews. C’mon, light fixtures are practically begging to be torn apart and hacked. Well, they beg me, anyway. In a tiny, pathetic little voice. And I have little to no willpower against the personal aspirations of pendant lighting.
A picture is worth about a thousand words (twelve hundred and sixteen, actually; adjusted for inflation), so there you have it – how to hack a pendant light in four thousand words. You’re welcome.
It looks so much better than it did before. Only problem is this; when you sit underneath it, it is showing a little too much leg. I’m thinking I’ll get a section of pipe next time I go to Home Depot (yes, I will buckle my children securely into the cart this time), hack it up and spray it black. Make it a sleeve, I ‘spose.
I especially like what Nathan has done with the table. Stacks of little boxes of hardware and tools really bring out the smooth texture of the new shade. (At least that is what I tell him. Nae is working on his “staging” skills; he isn’t quite the natural that I am. *cough.)
Last night, we finished painting the living room. The shelves are now finally screwed into the wall. Which makes me happy, since I am pretty sure that Alice is just aching to climb them. We’ve got lots of work to do in here (and currently can’t justify spending any money on decorating yet), but it is finally functional. I think I’ll unpack the books while Nathan puts in the baseboards this weekend. Hint, hint, Darling.
By the way, aren’t those honey oak railings just dripping with 1992 awesomeness??
I might even get lucky this weekend. My idea of “getting lucky” is talking Nathan into splurging on curtains and rods. Our neighbors are going to mourn the sight of bespectacled, bed-headded me in the mornings. Poor souls.