Cold wet miserable February I can’t wait to see the end of
you. Still, there are a few primroses in the lanes around here – and the days
are getting longer so maybe it isn’t all bad. Maybe it’s just that the darkest
hour is the one before dawn. All will be well so long as the store of wood
holds out and the hens give me at least one egg a day between them. Everyone
needs reasons to be cheerful.
My music room is almost finished but until I get the wood-burning
stove installed it’s too cold to use. I like the contrast between antique and
contemporary just like I enjoy old 1920’s finger-picking guitar tunes played at
high volume with electric overdrive.
So in recent weeks I have been trawling second hand shops
and car boot sales for music room furniture. I picked up a couple of 1960’s
style settees, a glass coffee table and a ‘fake’ Eames chair. Ikea provided me
with a shelving unit (flat-pack has its place as a friend pointed out the other
day).
Lighting turned out to be a tricky business. I wanted spot
lights so that I could direct attention to specific things and areas. My first
attempt at fixing a light (one of six) produced a great flash that tripped out
all the electricity, not just in the barn but in the main house too. Panic – no
under-floor heating, dead fridge, thawing freezers, no lights anywhere, useless
oven and a dead sound system. Back to the cold, dark, silent Stone Age in a
millisecond. Not a good start. I took out the bulb.
My good neighbour Serge arrived with a circuit tester and
quickly found the fault. There was a loose wire in the switch. It was easily
repaired. At my next attempt I turned off the electricity in the barn and
decided to go for broke – wiring up all six lights in one effort. Back at the
barn main fuse-board I flipped the switch back to ‘on’ using a wooden stick –
didn’t want to put my hand anywhere near it. Surprisingly nothing happened. No
shocks or explosions but no lights either.
‘Ah, maybe
I need to switch them on’, I thought. I took my trusty wooden stick upstairs
and gingerly prodded the light switch – nothing – not even the faintest
glimmer.
I went back downstairs and turned off the electricity once
again and then painstakingly checked each and every connection. They seemed
fine to me.
Now I have a philosophy and an approach to work that has
suited me well for more years than I care to remember --- ‘When the going gets
tough – take a glass of wine and find a settee to lie on’.
While lying on the settee that I came to the conclusion that
if the electric circuits were fine, then the
problem had to be in the light
bulbs – maybe I had bought a faulty set. So armed with light bulbs from the
house (which I knew worked fine), I went back to the barn with a view to
replacing the original bulbs with these.
Once again I turned off the juice at the fuse-box and then
headed upstairs with replacement bulbs to make the changes. That is when I made
a shocking discovery. So shocking that I fear I may never completely recover – There
were no bulbs in the light fittings. The bulbs I had bought with the lights were
still in their packaging sitting on the Eames chair. I fitted the bulbs and all
was well. So, I have lights, although they were hardly required initially, the
embarrassment on my face was enough to light and heat a small room for the rest
of the week. Even now I am still surprised and embarrassed when I flick the
switch and the lights actually come on. I’m still reluctant to touch the switch
though – prefer to stand well away and use my trusty wooden stick – just in
case.
David
