Making little discoveries.

And I don’t mean the,  “What the heck is that growing on the back of my neck”, kind of discovery.  We won’t go there.

Just a run of the mill, annoying little thing.  Like thinking that all the lamps in the place are actually working, but they’re not.

I took out a dead one a few days ago and recalled that there’s a place on Neubaugaße that sell lamps and light fixtures.

Not a big deal in terms of distance,  and I spied a store that Travelling Companion has been wanting to visit,  although I didn’t get sidetracked.

 

Something to do with Christmas shopping.   I don’t ask.  They sell “stuff”.  That’s all I know.

 

Of course, the lighting store (I didn’t get a picture from the outside) appears to be one of those places where they not only sell to the public, but also to contractors,  which somehow always means they’re overpriced and understaffed.  I think I should have been in the lighting business.

Case in point.

Once upon a time,  before I renovated our kitchen back home,  we had two pendant lamps hanging down from the ceiling.  Due to a moment of rambunctiousness on the part of a young relation,  one of them came crashing down to the floor,  and I was very pleased to find its replacement at a garage sale for a for fifty cents.  I thought that was a pretty good price, and probably would have been willing to go as high as a dollar,  especially considering how much these people were asking for similar pieces.   Some of these things were between 30 and 40 Euros!  For a freakin’ globe!  Oy!

I very surreptitiously took that picture while I was waiting patiently to be served.   It’s a good thing I don’t have an actual agenda.

 

This is the little gem that what I was looking for.

Note the price. 

It turns out that,  even though I could have possibly saved a Euro or two by going elsewhere,  sometimes that whole scheme can be fraught with difficulties.  In order to go out to OBI (like a Home Despot) to save said Euro or two,  I’d first have to drive Travelling Companion to work (so that I could have the car), wait for the stores to open,  and hope that I find the right lamp.

Turns out there are two different “temperatures” to choose from.  Lucky for me that I had written some gibberish down on a piece of paper,  since the young lady who was looking after me was able to give me the right colour lamp.  The last one of these that I installed is definitely the wrong temperature,  although I’m the only one who might notice.  Don’t tell.

 

Of course,  it never occurred to me to take the old lamp along, which I should have done,  since they had a bucket there for the disposal of old lamps.  These things contain “Quecksilber”,  (Mercury) and really shouldn’t go into the regular garbage.  I knew that.  Silly bugger.

So I asked if they wouldn’t mind if I brought the old one along tomorrow,  and that wasn’t any kind of a problem. 

Well,  it turns out I’d better go to the bank machine before I head back there tomorrow,  since I started seeing dark spots where I swear there had been working lamps before.   When we leave here, all the lamps have to be in working order,  so hopefully they’ll all hang in until then.  Not holding my breath.

 

Dark spot:

Dark spot:

It’s all fine and dandy that some very clever architect or interior designer came up with this really cool and oh so sexy way of having lights in the bathrooms,  but the thing is,  when it comes to the practicality of changing a lamp,  the whole arrangement is just DUMB.  

Somewhere in my bag of tricks,  I have one of those little mirrors “on a stick” that mechanics use.  Travelling Companion’s make-up mirror was closer at hand.

 

 

Hey look!  There it is!

Short of sticking your hand up there,  this is the only way of knowing if there’s actually a burnt out lamp causing that dark spot.

 

Oh,  and by the way,  it’s SUCH A PLEASURE trying to install a lamp with the use of a mirror!  Why isn’t it going the right way?  I have problems enough controlling the movement of my appendages as it is.  Trying to rewire my pea brain on the fly is a huge challenge.  Trust me.

It’s kind of like rubbing your belly and patting your head at the same time.  Try it.  (I’ll wait)

OK,  now switch hands.   See?  Not so easy, is it?

 

So now at least I have a good reason to go back to the lighting store besides taking back a mitt full of dead soldiers.

 

Isn’t this fun?

I suspect that in six months,  I won’t even have the time or energy to write down this kind of gibberish.  The projects may very well turn out to be overwhelming.  I’m too scared to make a list. 

 

Keep those tools handy.

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

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