I want a chandelier in my bedroom. One with crystals. Badly.
Conventional wisdom says you should have a ceiling fan in your bedroom, and I do, but it’s ugly. Besides, I can’t sleep with a ceiling fan running because it gives me a terrible sore throat and wrecks my sinuses. I’m delicate that way.
Amanda wants one in her laundry room. I’m not sure how elaborate she wants hers to be, though.
I had dinner with Jennifer and the chirren tonight (after which we came awfully close to getting shot near), and we were talking about how I think she ought to write a book, and she said if she wrote one, it would probably be a cookbook/organization book, which reminded me that Amanda is having a fling with her label maker, and it hit me: Amanda and Jennifer need to meet!
Amanda and I have a somewhat sordid history with our old book club. We weren’t very good members, because we mostly were there for the wine and appetizers and to talk and giggle. And Jennifer said she wouldn’t mind being in that kind of book club.
But back to my chandelier. I want one in the bedroom. Which I think is much more doable than a butler’s pantry, since I really can’t add on to the house. Maybe I should look at some next week. I know for a fact that if you start unscrewing things on your ceiling fan, it will eventually just fall to the floor, and I definitely know how to install a ceiling fixture.