Friday, January 12, 2007

To Change a Light Fixture

Today has indeed been one of varied adventures, if thankfully mild ones. First fending off the Suburban Attack Cat from his intended prey (see below), then changing the light fixture in Greg's bathroom.

Part way thru I realized that I had unplugged the supply wires from the old fixture without noting which were white and which black- they being of the very old and faintly differentiated cloth-wrapped ilk. My guides to home repairs didn't have anything to say about identifying superannuated wires. At least I had remembered to turn off the electricity at the switchbox, something which the fixture instructions neglected to remind of. I finally decided to take a guess based on vaguely whitish threads around one which didn't appear on the other.

Then I realized that the wires from the wall came out of a hole which would not be covered by the new baseplate, so had to push them in and grab them with a pair of needle nose pliers and pull them over and out the hole under the mounting bracket.

As any handy-person would expect, I lost the wires and they fell into the wall. So, off to the closet to find a wire shirt hanger, back to fish them into reaching distance, and pull them over and out of the correct hole. Zack, the Tabby Terror of the Ko'olaus, appeared long enuf to snear on his way to a power napping spot.

I dropped the wire nuts only twice, and the flashlight once. Fortunately I did this in mid-afternoon with plenty sunlight.

Before screwing the thing to the wall and putting the glass cover on, I flipped the circuit breaker to see if I had cross wired and would blow up the house, or make Greg's recently trimmed locks reach for the sky. All seemed well, so I finished up, sneared a bit myself, tho at the defeated fixture, and settled in for a Diet Coke.

Of Cats and Chameleons

Zack, the Terror of the Ko'olaus had a poor innocent green chameleon cornered by the front door awhile ago, and, not wanting to have to be the one to later pick up any pieces, I came to the feller's rescue. The chameleon's, not Zack's, altho in all such encounters I am rarely sure who would come out best.

Anyway, Zack was disgruntled, and the lizard wasn't a lot happier, so far as I could tell. As I tried to open the door without letting Zack escape to commit further depredations upon the Lizard-American community at large, I knocked my hat off the hook, then dashed out to the lanai with said Citizen in my hand only to have him dash up my arm and up my sleeve. The inside of my sleeve at that. Did I say that green Lizard-Americans have cold toes? Off came the t-shirt, gently, lest said perp get squished, re-captured him (or her), and off to the Birds of Paradise for his release.