Once upon a time, long, long ago I took five years of Spanish classes and became fairly proficient. Now if I work hard at it, I can say hello and spoon, oh yeah, and fork. At one time I also took three semesters of sign language. With no opportunity to use it, now I fear I'd look like I was batting away flies. I watch a lot of cooking shows, but with fewer opportunities to cook a meal, I'd worry about the outcome. Years past, Steve's family formed a work crew and replaced two roofs for relatives. It was my job to carry bundles of shingles up to the guys. After having got myself stuck for hours on the roof years ago, I was banned from using ladders. Uh huh.
In the kitchen there are seven recessed lights, the kind with those flat-bottomed bulbs. One burned out some time back, but it wasn't critical so I just let it be. I have plenty of spare bulbs and I'd get around to it one of these days. Day before yesterday, a bulb over the stove burned out. Well, that wouldn't do. As long as I was at it, I'd change the other one, too. A two-step step stool doesn't count as a ladder, right? It seems I have become The Incredible Shrinking Woman and couldn't reach the light. Given that the one over the stove island gives nothing to hang onto, it's always been a challenge, but I gave it the old college try, struggling with the two steps. Okay, that was a no go. The light over the cabinets should be easier and I wasn't about to give up. Up the stool again. The bulb that gives nothing to grasp refused to unscrew. Down the steps. Fate plays cruel jokes. It became an epidemic of burned out bulbs. Three more bulbs burned out in quick succession, and I am left with three working bulbs...none of which is in an area of need, and none is over the stove.
Not having used ladder muscles in lo, these many years, I didn't anticipate straining my hamstrings on two steps. Michael got short shrift on his walks (my hobbles) and I spent the rest of yesterday in the chair, groaning and popping aspirin. When the pandemic lessens and people are allowed my house again, I'll ask for help and...let there be light! Until then, and only then, I'll have to remember to do any cooking before dark. I should probably start some sort of exercise routine. Or not.
Stay safe. Be well.
1 comment:
I know they have tools with long handles and a section cup for the can light bulb, and thus it can be changed from the ground, but I have no idea how much they cost or if the lights would be stubborn and refuse to turn. So yep...daytime cooking!
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