The Writing Moment

I had a strong and productive writing session yesterday. But being so involved, my sense of time evaporated. I found myself leaving the coffee shop an hour later than usual.

I couldn’t go directly home, but had to go buy light bulbs. Finishing with that errand, I jumped into the car to head home. By now, I was an hour and a half later than usual.

My phone rang. It was my wife. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Where are you?” she answered. “You’re much later than your usual time. I’m calling to see if you’re dead or unconscious in a hospital.”

“You called to see if I was dead or unconscious?” I laughed.

She did not.

Lights Out

Light bulbs are so like cereal, ice cream, and bread. The range of choices sprawl along store aisles like invading armies staging to attack.

It’s been a period of lights out in our house. Light bulbs retired in the last several weeks all over our house. Kitchen, stove top, office, bedroom, garage, living room accent light have all been afflicted. As each burned out, I checked pulled it and checked it out for the replacement. Several of them hadn’t been replaced since being installed in 2006, when we moved in, so we got our mileage out of them. Easiest, in theory, was the office light, which had been first to go dark.

There are actually three bulbs up there. I pulled off the shade to take a look. One was burned out; one socket was empty. The third was almost an antique: 60 watts, GE, filament, frosted white. Poor thing.

“Can we get something brighter?” my wife asked. She’s had a lifetime of vision issues and compensates by turning on every light possible. When she uses the kitchen, she generally turns on four sets of lights. Yes, four. There are ceiling spotlights, under-cabinet work lights, and breakfast bar lights. The dining room is adjacent, just on the other side of the breakfast counter, so she always turns on it on to, adding the lumens from its five bulbs. There are basically 23 bulbs of different wattage going on when she’s in the kitchen.

The only one no in use alone is the sink task light. The others’ switches are clustered together, four switches under one faceplate by the kitchen’s entrance. She just spreads her fingers, flattens her palm, and hits them all, usually simultaneously click. But the sink task light is by the sink, and she forgets it. Funny, because it’s my favorite, and the one I mostly use, usually the only one I use. Just for the record, there’s also the range top lights, which are part of the hood/fan assembly attached to the microwave’s underside. She doesn’t use them. I use them when I’m cooking or to leave a light on when we’re out of the house and returning after dark.

The office required a sixty-watt bulb. Easy peasy, right? But how many Ks should it have, and lumens? I want an energy saver but of what nature? These were things that I didn’t know that I needed to know. I ended up with 60-watt comparable LED daylight white 5000K bulbs boasting of 750 lumens. Three were installed and the shade installed. Then, click.

OMG. “Wow.” My wife sounded giddy. “I can see.”

I was overwhelmed. She often accuses me of being in the dark, scolding, “How can you see in here?” Under the force of these three bulbs, I felt that sunglasses would be suitable. And they only use eight watts of power, don’t emit much heat, and should last over ten years.

“So you like them?” I facetiously asked. “Do you want them in the bedroom?”

“Yes!”

With that done to her satisfaction, I turned to the kitchen. The ceiling spotlights, all old energy-savers, issued a duller light. “Want me to install daylight bulbs in here?”

She hesitated. “They’re awfully bright.”

Screw it; I did it. Well, there are four of them. I replaced three.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “I can see. Wow. This place is really dirty.”

No, it wasn’t, but she’s fond of using hyperbole like that.

“Too bright?” I asked. They were 75-watt comparable LED spotlights rated at 650 lumens and 4800K clear daylight. Yes, indeed, they were bright. They also cost about eight dollars each but would endure for almost twelve years. Their specs also claimed their use would only cost about $.016 per year. The last coaxed doubt out of me. Surely that couldn’t be right.

After those bulbs, the rest were anticlimactic. 40 watts for the range. 35-watts LED with a G8 pin base for the under-cabinet work lights. A 50-watts soft white pin mini spotlight (L9) for the living room accent installation over the fireplace, and one of the 60-watt LED bulbs (I’d purchased a ten-pack of the FEIT offering) in the garage. In all, I installed fifteen bulbs, learned a smattering more about the world of lighting, and spent about $57 in light bulbs. But I should spend less on replacements and use less energy.

We’ll see. It was so, so different from the old days of finding a small hardware section and buying almost exclusively on their wattage. Like cereal, which now has what seems like a million choices. Or bread and all of its options over wheat, grain, multi-grain, gluten-free — well, you probably know the dealio. We’ve come a long way from sliced white bread.

Or ice cream. You better know what you want when you decide to buy ice cream in a grocery store. Low fat, dairy free, gluten free, etc. That’s just a start. Then there are sizes and flavors. Prices. Or are you going to go with other options, like frozen yogurt? Options and choices can be overwhelming.

Just like when you buy light bulbs.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: sunny

Greetings to my companions as we continue our interstellar journey on this spinning orb, racing around the sun as the solar system gallops along and the galaxy chases its revolutions. It’s Saturday, the tenth of Feb. in the common era year 2024, and it’s the start of the Lunar New Year. Let’s celebrate new beginnings.

Sunny and blue-ish describes our day. 49 F now, 58 F is in the running as today’s high. Our house is masked for painting, so the windows were all covered in fluttering clear plastic. Made for interesting window gazing. Everything was out of focus and indistinct. Protected by those, I felt like I was in a nest, womb, or spaceship. A later walk found me admiring a skeletal snow crown atop a peak, glittering with sunshine against a clear blue space of sky.

With the painting going on, Tucker planted himself in a napzone and let nature take him to the land of nod. Papi bolted out and staked out a space where he could alternate between monitoring painting activities, his territory, and napping.

I did a small information-finding exercise last night, visiting the Billboard TicToc top 50 songs just to taste what is listened to in that realm and its inhabitants. Many talented performers are featured on the site, and there are a wide range of sounds and intriguing videos, delivering an entertaining and provocative trip.

One song which engaged The Neurons was “Little Life” by Cordeilia. They caught enough of it to pull it back into the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) today as I went through the AM routines. It’s a quiet song, like a small brook bubbling past, exuding an introspective, reflective tone. Lyrics like, “I think I like this little life”, emerges in Cordelia’s gentle lilting voice, striking notes about how life goes as you mature. Listening it to with my mind’s ears, I returned in spirit back to hikes through woods or along shore, quiet moments contemplating sunsets and sunrises, and instances when I yearned to turn my back on secular matters and journey inward.

Stay positive, be strong, keep leaning forward, and register and vote, y’all. Here’s to coffee and the rewards it brings. Let’s enjoy the music. Cheers

Today’s Wandering Thought

Heading into a store, I encountered a woman standing to one said, leash in hand. On the leash’s other end was a handsome but elderly golden retriever, sitting and yawning. I said good morning to her and then addressed the dog, “What a handsome, yawning puppy.”

Without a beat passing, the woman replied, “I’ll let him know what you said.”

We both burst out laughing.

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