My Kitchen Light

I don't know who chose the chandelier in my kitchen.  I bet it was not the builder.  I never would have chosen it.  What's with all the glass balls?  Do I change them out with ornaments at Christmas?  If I give it a spin, will disco music start playing somewhere in the background?  Dusting this thing will be fun.


We've been in this house now for a month and each time I look at the light fixture, I pause.  Hmm... Do I like it or not?  I suppose the answer does not matter since we won't be replacing it but I have decided to like it.  I've made a conscious decision to just like the dang thing.  Here's my reasoning:


Our neighborhood is nice but like so many others, it is a land of beige boxes.  I've seen worse but it really is a boring street.  Inside the house, the carpet is tan, the walls are neutral, the woodwork is white, and the window treatments are uninteresting.  In my life, I own a lot of khaki, wear very little makeup, and keep my hair in a ponytail most days.  My children have traditional names spelled the traditional ways.  I always come to a complete stop and try not to exceed the speed limit.  Boring.  Boring.  Boring.


I'm not really complaining.  Most of these are choices I have made or have agreed to live with.  I wasn't always boring.  In our first house, I painted one of the bathrooms orange.  The paint chip was called "papaya" and I loved it.  I even painted the ceiling that color.  Ten years and three kids later, I've learned to make beige choices.  Beige is safe.  Orange is crazy.


I'm going to let this one light fixture be my reminder that sometimes I need to dare to make unexpected choices.  It's not papaya but it's something and I like it.