Consider it our home’s hangnail. A big, ugly, rusting floodlight protruding off the back corner of our sunroom. A good idea in theory – cast light across the beautiful backyard, right? – but pretty crappy in reality. The thing buzzed like a giant, vibrating cellphone and the sickly blue light that it gave off was totally unnecessary (thanks to three other, more attractive lights in the back). In the 18 months we’ve lived here it’s been used, um, never.
Sunday morning = time for it to go. With my barely-tall-enough ladder I teetered while managing to unscrew it from the exterior wall and snip & cap the wire. But I couldn’t reach the part where it was hooked to the underside of the roof. So, up to the roof I went to play home improvement monkey.
After a dizzying 20 minutes of laying on my stomach over the edge of the roof, I got one pesky screw out and the light came crashin’ down (onto some old cardboard boxes from Target that we stacked below to cushion the fall- thanks Target). After a brief victory dance it was time for a little clean-up (both of the fallen light, and my roof-stained clothes).
Final score: John – 1, Hangnail – 0.