Let. There. Be. Light.

This is going to be a long one.  Buckle up. 

Our journey begins back in May, when I ordered a light fixture from Pottery Barn to replace the light fixture in my dining room.  I actually ordered it before I moved into the house, but it was back ordered so I had to wait awhile.  

Here is the original fixture, shown while lit to prove that there was, in fact, power that adequately supplied the light source. 

 

While I waited for the new fixture to be delivered, my parents came to town and my dad helped me install one new light, and two light/fan combos.  (Okay, he installed one light while instructing me how to do so for future reference, and I was johnny-on-the-spot with screwdrivers while he installed the fans.  He was a champion.)  I paid close attention, so when the big box finally arrived on my front porch, I was ready to go.  I enlisted Amanda to help me out since it's a job made significantly easier by the presence of another human.  

 

Learning from the previous experiences, I knew to connect the wires and then test with a bulb before actually mounting the entire thing.  The bulb wouldn't light.  

Two of my male coworkers came over to give it another go.  They arrived with a very large and impressive tool box filled with a wire tester, among other things.  We tested the circuit and found that there was actual electricity running in both the switch and the ceiling.  A few phone calls to the uncles led to the eventual conclusion that the fixture was defective.  When I called to return it, I was informed that it was still on back order, and I would not receive a new one until probably August.  If you notice, the wall in the background is still blue.  I had painted it green the week after Father's Day.  (Just for some chronological reference.)

I decided to go ahead and just return it, then look for something new.  I ended up ordering a different fixture from West Elm.  Naturally, this one was on back order as well.  I'd have to wait until around July 31st for delivery.  Oooooof course. 

 After many moons had passed, the new fixture arrived.  This was a week ago today.  I forgot to mention how confusing the Pottery Barn wiring had been.  I was delighted to open up the West Elm fixture and find that, not only were the wires the right colors, but they were labeled as well!

 

As soon as I connected the wires, I screwed in a bulb and turned on the breaker.  

No dice.  

I contacted some more male friends to find out if anyone had some electrically-inclined friends who might be willing to help.  After a few days of hunting, we finally found someone but it was going to cost a pretty penny.  

My stubbornness kicked in big time.  

Why on earth can I not figure this out for myself?  

Here's the thing: I'm by no means a feminist, and I've never found myself having a hard time accepting help from guys.  The problem is that I don't like accepting help from anyone.  I'm fiercely independent, and it kills me any time I have to seek out favors from people to deal with things like light installations, tree branch removal, plumbing consults, etc.  I like to think of myself as a competent human, and it just irks me when I can't do something myself.

In other words, I was fired up.  I decided this morning that today was the day.  I was installing the new light fixture, and nobody was going to stop me.  I would conquer electricity, and that was that.  

One thing that had come up as a possible cause for the problems before was the dimmer switch from the old fixture.  We had thought it might have been the issue back in June, and even pulled it out from the wall to take a look at it, but my friends determined that it was too over our heads.  So I looked up how to remove a dimmer switch and replace it with a normal one.  A few youtube videos later, and I felt sufficiently armed with knowledge to head to Home Depot and get the necessary supplies.   

I sent Padre the following text message: "Today, I am mustering up every ounce of stubbornness and pride I have.  I am going to make the dining room light fixture work, even if it kills me.  I thought you'd want to know."  

He then asked me to try everything short of killing myself.  Then asked me to give him a text update every thirty minutes to let him know I was okay and hadn't electrocuted myself yet.  Please don't take that to imply lack of confidence.  I genuinely appreciate his concern and caution since I was doing this alone in my house.  

Driving back from Home Depot, I heard "Stranglehold" on the radio and immediately knew I was going to be victorious in my mission.  I am not here to defend the lyrics of the song, but it has one fantastic guitar riff.  That song will pump anyone up.  I turned up the volume as loud as it would go and enjoyed every second of the nine minute instrumental section.... rare for someone who enjoys singing at the top of my lungs.  It was just one of those I-feel-it-in-my-bones-that-this-is-going-to-end-well kind of omens. 

 

When I walked inside, I pulled the new switch out of my bag and prepared to work.  My preparation consisted of the following steps: 

1)  Eat.  Yep.  When my blood sugar drops, so does the chance of anything good happening.

2)  Pray.  Then ask Padre to pray and start the 30 minute timer to text him that I was still alive.

3)  Set up the portable fan that has kept me cool and, therefore, sane, through various home improvement projects thus far.  

4)  Get started.

I even remembered Uncle Todd's advice to take a picture before I undid anything in case I needed to put it back the way it was.  

Here's the dimmer. 

 

And here's the fun mess inside.

Yikes.  That mess may or may not have been hanging out like that since June.

When I removed the dimmer, I was left with this:

 

Here's where the trouble really began.  All the youtube videos I watched informed me how to install a single pole light switch to the black, white, and ground wires in the wall.  My wall contained a box of three black, three white, and three ground wires.  

I immediately called Uncle Kevin.  He asked a lot of questions and requested a lot of pictures.  After careful and thorough analysis, he informed me that each bundle of wires (Romex cables, I learned) was feeding something different.  One was the power source, one likely went to the fixture, and the last one potentially powered the outlet on the same wall that hasn't worked since I moved in.  I needed to figure out which one was the hot wire.  For that, I would need a wire tester or a pigtail light.  

By this point, my spirits were not quite as high.  Ted Nugent was losing his inspirational power over me, and I was starting to get discouraged.  I was also strongly opposed to driving all the way back to Home Depot, which really should be paying me commission by now.  

I decided it was a good time for me to go talk to the neighbors to see if anybody had one I might be able to borrow.  I headed across the street first.  I met the man who lives there back in May, and I'd spoken to him once since then in passing.  He did not answer the door.  The woman who answered almost hid behind the door in fear and then looked at me like I was full on crazypants when I asked if she had a wire tester I could borrow.  So much for that.  I then went to one other house where there were neighbors I'd already met.  The man not only didn't have a wire tester, but he also looked at me like I was insane and expressed genuine concern for my safety when I explained what I was doing.  

Now I was hugely discouraged.  I maybe started to cry a little.  It's important to note, for those of you who haven't been around me in the past 3-4 months, that everything has made me cry lately.  This particular occurrence is not an indication of deep depression or of major sadness.  I was just frustrated.

Still determined not to drive far across town again, I did a little scouting online and realized they sell pigtail lights at Autozone.  I called to make sure they would work in a house rather than in an automobile, and the man made me explain the entire story before informing me that it wouldn't work in a house, but they sold voltmeters that would do the trick. 

This is what he sold me.

 

I am fairly confident we used something similar to this in Pre-AP Physics back in high school, and that I didn't have a clue what was going on then either.  Fortunately, he told me what setting to put it on, how to use it, and that it should read around 120 volts.  

After a little fidgeting with the apparatus, I found the hot wires.  Uncle Kevin then called me back and directed my attention to a diagram he found online that would help explain how to wire everything.  He patiently walked me through the entire thing, making sure I understood what to do with each and every one of the nine wires coming out of my wall.  Then he told me to call him back and let him know how it went.  

The instructions were easy.  The application was not.  This wire is super thick, making it very difficult for me to manipulate.  I was able to finish almost all of it okay, except for the white wires.  I needed to strip the insulation off the ends of them, twist them together, and then cap them off with a wire nut.  Every time I tried to twist them, one of the wires broke.  The same wire.  In other words, it kept getting shorter.  This was a wire coming out of my wall.  A limited resource.  I was panicking slightly.  Finally I got it to work.  I had the original fixture hanging again with one bulb so I could test if the switch was connected properly.  

SUCCESS!!!!!!!!!

I don't exaggerate when I say I felt like I was winning an Olympic medal at that point.  It might seem dumb, but this stupid light fixture has frustrated and annoyed me for almost three months now.  

It's the reason my dining room table has looked like this since I moved in: 

 

I flipped the breaker back off, and swapped the old fixture out with the new one.  I screwed in one bulb and tested it again.  The new one worked too!!!!

Now that everything was connected properly, I finished mounting the plate and canopy, screwed everything in, put in all the bulbs, and attached the glass that goes over the bulbs.  One more flip of the breaker, and...

nothing.

No light whatsoever. 

Arg.

Actually, from watching my dad I had learned that if one tiny wire gets just a little loose or touches metal or anything, the whole thing gets thrown off.  I figured a wire had come loose, but I had to go meet my trainer so I determined to deal with it when I got home.  

On my way back, I enlisted the help of yet another male friend who is fairly handy.  I explained what I thought the problem was and that I figured it would just be an easier job with two people and should be a quick fix.  Now around 9pm, I walked inside to a dark house and flipped on the porch light for my friend.  No light.  I checked and the breaker was on, so I knew there must have been a loose wire to turn off the entire circuit.  Not a problem.  

I went in the kitchen to grab some dinner and realized that the entire kitchen is also on that circuit.  Somehow this detail eluded me previously.  

The kitchen.

The fridge. 

MY FOOD!!!

Yikes again.  Okay, now time was crunching.  

I had been using a tiny step ladder, but I figured I'd need something more substantial to get a closer look.  I ran to the garage and grabbed the ladder I borrowed from my parents but had yet to use.  

Figuring out the Little Giant ladder system was more complicated than wiring the light fixture.  

 

A painful incident with a similarly complicated ladder last summer had me extra worried, but I managed to get it set up okay... I think.  

I pulled off the canopy and retwisted all the appropriate wires together.  I got everything else on the circuit working again, but the breaker flipped anytime I tried to turn on the light switch.  It was now too late to call Uncle Kevin, who was likely fast asleep.

My friend arrived and we got to work carefully stuffing the wires back up into the ceiling.  He pointed out where exposed wire was touching the mounting plate and helped me fix it.   He also informed me that he is afraid of both heights and electricity, but he graciously climbed his side of the ladder and touched all the wires anyway.  (Quick plug for the Little Giant Ladder System: if you can figure out how to use it, it's pretty stinkin' awesome because you can have people standing on both sides of it... super convenient in situations like this one!)

We got the bulbs lit!  

Anticipating a similar complication when I pushed all the wires from the light switch back into the wall, I made him stay to help me with that part as well.  It was a good thing I did.  After a lot of work, we managed to get the light switch screwed on properly. 

Looks a lot better than the tangled mess from earlier, huh? 

The result? 

Drum roll please...

...

...

...

LIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm so happy I could cry all over again.

I have to be honest, I had about 43 things to do today, and I didn't get to a single one of them.  

But now this source of months of frustration and annoyance is gone, like a weight removed from my shoulders, and I feel like I can be much more focused and productive with everything else that needs to get done around here.

Huge, mega, ultra, super shout out and thank you to Uncle Kevin, who walked me step-by-step through this entire thing!!!!

 

 

(and who maybe expressed to my mom that this better work so he wouldn't be eviscerated on the blog.)

I couldn't have done it without you.  If you didn't live 1500 miles away, I would be making you the stovetop pork carnitas that I raved about last week as a thank you gift.  I guess you'll just have to come visit so I can make them while you check out my handiwork.  

Love, 

Murphy & Me