Once upon a time, about 15 years or so ago, a good friend gave us a beautiful, antique lamp that he rewired. This lamp was probably one of the finest gifts we'd ever received. It was perfect. We loved it. We used it. Alot.
Once upon a lesser time ago, about 3 years, this beautiful, well loved, one-of-a-kind lamp stopped working. We tried to fix it (sort of), but it was beyond our meager expertise. This little lamp was moved to the basement when we moved to our new house.
Always in the back of my mind was the reality that this lamp could be fixed, by me. I looked it over several times but was stymied by the metal construction. How does all that wire get from the bottom to the top and attach to the light bulb? How does one get ones fingers in those tiny spaces?
Well, yesterday I decided that I NEEDED to fix this lamp. I longed for the lamp. I craved the beauty of the old metal, the curve of the decoration, the gentle light. I set to work.
I discovered that said lamp could be unscrewed in various places. I found out how to take it all apart. Actually, I've always been good at taking things apart. It's putting them back together again that is sometimes difficult.So, after a few trials and a trip to Home Depot, I was able to fix the lamp. Need I say that I'm proud of myself and not ashamed to toot my own horn. I spent the night reading (homeschool curricula) by my lamp with a fire in the fireplace. Ahhhhh, peace.