Wednesday, January 11, 2006


So I was going to write about other things, but the bathroom light just exploded.

No, really. Yesterday the bulb went out in the uppermost bathroom. It is a pretty nondescript fixture, a white frosted glass dome held to the ceiling by three screws. In all the years I have been here, I have never replaced those bulbs, so I unscrewed the screws and discovered that there were two burnt-out 60-watt bulbs, one of a brand that I had never seen before. So I pulled out a couple new 60-watt bulbs and screwed them back in, and reattached the glass dome securely with the three screws.

Let the record show that I reattached it firmly. I always have this weird "Sword of Diamocles" vibe when I am under a heavy glass dome held by three small screws. I double-checked. Really.

So this morning, while the Lovely Bride was showering, I heard a crash upstairs. At first I wondered if it was the cats (one of the important reasons to own cats - you hear a strange noise, they take the fall). Then the Lovely Bride let out a plaintive cry and I stormed upstairs, to find the glass ceiling dome in 1807 pieces on the bathroom floor. I fetched the Lovely Bride a pair of sandals so she could escape the bathroom, and I started picking up the pieces.

Now, I am cleaning up the mess, positive that, despite my cranking and checking, I had not screwed the dome in tight, but the Lovely Bride offers another theory. She thinks the dome exploded, then fell, as opposed to the other way around. And indeed, a lot of the pieces were pretty hot. Which creates another possibility - that the old dome was not used to the sudden temperature of TWO 60-watt light bulbs (hey, they run EZ-Bake ovens off one) and gave up the ghost.

Regardless, it is one of those nasty cases where you make a repair and then things get worse.

And the bulbs on the overhead just above my desk chair have just gone out as well. Sigh.

More later,