Linens and Things II: A Bright Idea

Posted Monday, March 24, 2008 1:53 PM

Our front light burned out … again.

Of course, replacing it isn’t as simple as screwing in a new lightbulb. There is a process:

1) Open garage door – carefully avoiding crickets, spiders and other creepy crawies – to obtain step ladder
2) Get a screwdriver to unscrew the cover – no, not that screwdriver, the one that looks like a plus sign.
3) Unscrew the cover – damn, too short … tip-toe time
4) Unscrew lightbulb – dropped it, crap!
5) Clean up broken lightbulb
6) Replace lightbulb.
7) Replace cover
8) Turn on light. Um, turn on light. Damn! Bad lightbulb.

Being the craft, thrifty, creative newlywed I am, I figure I should buy some solar lights to stick in the ground and aim at the front door, so when the front light burns out, we’ll have a back up. It made perfect sense.

Of course, no good deed goes unpunished and, it turns out, the area directly in front of our door gets no direct sun, thanks to a really terribly positioned bush.

So, I think about it: I’ll put it a little down the driveway so it lights up the driveway and the door. It was brilliant! Of course, as I was adjusting the head of the light the base broke. No problem! The light still worked … so I just leaned it on its side. Perfect!

This morning as I was getting ready to head to work,  I get a call from my husband – who was already on is way down the freeway.

“Honey. When you drove my car last night, did you turn the wheel?”

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I said, “Well, I had to, to get into the driveway. Why?”

“Because as I pulled out this morning, I think I ran over the light.”

I covered my forehead with my hands and said: “How did you manage that, you’d have to pull out at a 45 degree angle.”

“I didn’t realize how far out I was. I’ll come back and clean it up. I don’t want you to cut yourself.”

“Honey, that’s crazy,” I told him. “I’m capable of cleaning up a light.”

“I want to buy some more,” he tells me.

“We have two more in the closet,” I say.

“No,” he says. “I want them to line the driveway.”

“OK dear,” I say, “we’ll go to the store this week and get more.”

I hang up with him and go outside. I see the light. Not only is it in many plastic pieces – it is embedded into our lawn. The good news is I was able to pry it up, the bad news is, there is now a small hole in our lawn.

Of course, it is the perfect size for a light.