Yes, I said the house doesn’t want anything as glamorous as a chandelier. They are for grand houses like bizzyella’s and poshbirdy’s, not mine.
But I had this little Italian one I bought ten years ago that sat in the garage in the UK. Then I found a bag of 19thc coloured crystal glass drops on ebay. So, I thought, I’ll send it to myself at the French house just before we leave for Campagne and we can just try it out over the dining table, after all, in a very pared down offwhite & grey room a little colour is justified…..?
It arrives. I get the million pieces out of the box. Trev is now both bemused and sceptical . I start assembling ( AAARRGGHH!!). Trev starts looking at the ceiling mounts and tutting under his breath.
I make it crystal ( haha) clear that it IS going up right now.
He starts drilling the ceiling around the fitting and finds that his forays keep hitting solid steel; ‘course they BL***DY do, the steel joists above the diner ceiling are holding the roof terrace up!!!!
So we fetch the thing that beeps when it finds metal. He eventually locates two places where he can actually make holes deep enough.
We discover that the dainty metal rose does not seem big enough for the cable and junction box and he is obliged to jer….jer….jiggle it around a lot to get it safely up.
The temperature is now in the forties and it did not occur to me to put the fan on & Trev is way to hot and bothered to think straight. He starts discarding garments in a bid to reduce his temperature as he finally completes this ostensibly simple task.
He is now just about as grumpy as he could be; I tell him I now want a hook putting up so I can centre it over the dining table. He groans, rolls his eyes and starts the whole finding a spot with no steels again.
A spot is found but it doesn’t suit me because I want it lined up with the wall decoration (natch!)
Eventually we complete it.
Here are photos. It look great and pops dramatically against that dark grey.
“HaHaHa!” I said triumphantly to the house” It DOES work after all!”
Today’s lesson? You can be wrong.
Of course I rarely am….