I Saw The Light

My parents have pretty great talents. My mom has an eye for decorating. She's got that cute, crafty, country-chic style that is the shiz around these parts. And my dad, well, he can create most anything and fix most everything. Together, they're a creative force to be reckoned with.

But there are a few aspects of their home that are lacking that creative inspiration. The creamish-white walls, for example. My mom is convinced that all of the walls in the house must be white. It makes the room seem bigger, apparently. I think it's boring, but perhaps, someday I will comprehend her white-walled wisdom.

Another aspect is that darn fluorescent kitchen light. it's nightmare worthy. My parents have lived in that house since before my brother was born and that light has been a permanent fixture, unfortunately. It seems to be one of those things that you become so accustomed to that you don't even realize the ugliness.

Until, my mom perused a certain Pottery Barn magazine. She was taken by what she saw and enlisted my dad in helping her make her new kitchen light dreams come true.

Dad accepted the challenge. He found an old slab of wood from the barn and gathered electrical supplies. We yearned for the day when fluorescent tubes could be a distant memory.

Tada!

 

Wow!  Great job mom and dad!