Funny how things that seem so straightforward when you first have the idea, can become a tangled mess of confusion and indecision. A friend of mine is buying a new house and planned to replace the chandelier in the entry. Her project made me think back to home improvement projects of my own.
For some people, choosing a new light fixture is a simple task. They walk into the nearest store that has a decent selection, look around, point, and say ‘that one.’ Mission accomplished. Not sure what planet these folks hail from, but I’m from one on the other side of the solar system. I’ll walk in to that same store and think, that one’s nice, and I like that one too, but in the back of my mind a little voice whispers, ‘What else is out there?’
I can’t resist the siren call of curiosity and off I go in search of whatever I might be missing. What if I choose poorly because I limited my field of vision? Since there aren’t that many brick and mortar stores that carry lighting, I turn to the internet. Big time suck—17,000,000+ sites having something to do with entry chandeliers. Hours and hours of looking at pictures, checking on product specifications, and reading reviews later, I finally locate the perfect piece to welcome our guests into our home—because who uses the front door anymore—and it’s out of stock. Arghhh!
I’m the dog chasing the bubbles. As soon as you get it in your mouth… it’s gone.
Same thing happens to me when I start a fix-it project. The kitchen sink has seen better days—way better days—and it’s time to replace it. Another trip down to the warehouse store. First decision—how many basins? One, two, or three. What size should the basins be? Equal sizes or unequal sizes? What material do I want? Stainless steel, fireclay, copper, cast iron, a composite? How about depth and shape?
Finally I make the decision and then visualize that lovely new sink with the old, crappy kitchen faucet. Eewww, that’s not happening. Choices in faucets is about as limited as stars in the sky. New sink and faucet finally installed and I look at it next to the old kitchen counter, and then the flooring, and the paint, and when I was at the store, that glass tile as an accent around the stove would really make the kitchen pop.
One thing leads to another, and another, and another. I see my husband trying to sneak out the door, fishing pole in hand. He’s pretty sure he needs to be someplace else—for as long as possible.
I’m the dog chasing the bubbles. Too many to choose from and I want them all.