Lamps for Sale

If any of you are interested, my wife and I would like to sell this set of lamps. We bought them on eBay several years ago. They are very nice and fully functional. The base and caps are made from a plaster or chalk which has been painted. They date to 1909 (see picture above). The shades are made of mica (a touch of wear on the inside, but in good shape considering the age) and the lamps have their original wiring.

The supposed appraisal value for these are $400 for the set. We didn't pay near half of this, so we'll take $150 or your best offer plus shipping.

If interested, please leave a comment here or email me at thedevilqueen(AT)hotmail(DOT)com.

Pictures and posts to come, hopefully tomorrow.

Rejuvenation, Suck This!

Okay, I don't really have a grudge against Rejuvenation lighting. They make and sell magnificent period and replica lighting, and I have the highest respect for them since I read this blog post by the owner of the company.

And, while I really like how most of our "Made in China" lighting from Lowe's looks, I can't help think of how glorious the heft and weight of solid brass would be compared to the thin, mystery alloy-metal of our lighting. Sure, with the exception of some of the ceiling fans, we really consider most of this lighting temporary. When we sell the book and movie rights to our home improvement nightmare, we're planning to buy some mighty fine antique chandeliers at the very least.

My longing for the fabulous lighting of days long passed has been fed one tasty bit though. With all the major interior work finished, the last light fixture I installed was this one.

We bought this nearly a year ago at an antique shop in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. It is a 1920's light fixture with period, blown-glass shades. If I remember correctly, they were made by a guy or company named Fry or Frey. I'll have to dig the tag that came with it out of the box and have a second look to know for sure.

As usual, the pictures just don't do it justice. My wife and I stood utterly transfixed when this baby came on for the first time. So, until we can afford more, we can stand in the foyer and get our high-dollar lighting fix.

Home Improvement Blue Balls

Sometimes there just isn’t a climax.

I finished painting the hall ceiling last night and installed the three light fixtures. Woohoo.

[In case you're wondering about the decidedly non-Victorian lights, there will be a post devoted entirely to them soon.]

I was expecting an immense sense of accomplishment, but I felt like I'd eaten ash. Maybe it's because the crown still needs to be stained? Maybe it's because I need to scrape the excess paint of the transoms? Or, maybe I need to paint the doors and install the cherry flooring? Whatever it is, I just can't get excited. As I polished off a midnight snack, I even indulged in some photo therapy. How is this for an extreme before photo?

This is our hall rolling across Crow Mountain three-some-odd-years ago. The hall has definitely come a long way since then, but . . . I don't know. Maybe I just need some sleep?

Two Tactical Victories

The weekend was a whirlwind.

We went to Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, for a wedding on April 14th, the 95 Anniversary of the Sinking of the Titanic. A nice wedding, but was that the most auspicious day for one?

Sunday, our third and newest car broke down. It's still in the shop. That pretty well ruined most of the day. The funniest part is everytime we tell someone that our car broke down they say, "So the Saturn finally went. You sure got some good use out of it though." The look of incredulity is priceless when we tell them, "No. Actually, the Saturn is the only car that is still running. The new one broke down."

Our crisp, smoking broken-down-asses were pulled out of the fire by the immense kindness of two friends of ours. They not only picked us up off the side of the road, but loaned my wife their car until hers is out of the shop. Incase anyone is wondering, we are in the process of constructing a shrine for their perpetual worship. I mean, I'm so grateful that I'd willingly commit multiple felonies at their request. Thank you!

Then, I took Gideon to the doctor to have his allergies checked et cetera. And, best yet, I got to do all of this with a cold which my wife has now caught. Really, the cold is my fault. Last week, I worked myself too hard and slept too little. By Thursday night, I'd pretty well wrecked myself. Friday was spent fielding a lot of questions about why I looked dead.

By the time Sunday night was crashing to an end, I was very weary. And, it wasn't just the cold, the stress, and the 750+ miles on the road catching up with me.

It's amazing what spending a few days away from the Devil Queen can do for you. It takes very little time to get use to things like a clean house, real furniture, and the utter absence of construction sites and tools. You suddenly remember what it is like to live in a normal house, under normal conditions.

And then, you come home. There you are, sitting on top of a five gallon bucket of primer by the light of a bare, 60 watt bulb thinking, "There were trenches at the Somme that looked better than this, why the fuck are you living here?"

I was demoralized. In that brief absence I'd lost my sense of direction and purpose, but, after a night's sleep and a lot of coffee, I managed to regroup. While I should have massed my forces right away and stormed the hall, I decided to start off with two small, carefully chosen battles, skirmishes really.

I needed a taste of victory and a small dose of closure. Besides, it needed to be done anyhow.

The first battle started when I noticed I'd nearly fallen into an ambush. The house took advantage of my preoccupation. Last night, I had a sudden epiphany and spotted the trap. "Damn it man, the porch is painted! Clean off all the stupid tarps and rubbish, and quit stumbling over it every day." I decided that was a wonderful idea, particularly since the cat had deposited something small, dead, and wonderfully ripe by the front door. The way the porch was collecting flies and bad karma was appalling. I could feel it closing in upon my soul.

So, I sprang into action, and, while I was at it, I wired up the porch light.

The house wasn't expecting this little assault, she hardly put up a fight. I followed up with trying to finish off Pee-Wee's Playhouse's rim lock.

She tried to rally her forces, but she was still off balance. With the last minute substitution of a different set of knobs, this little piece of work fell together nicely. Now, all I have to do is chisel out a place for the lock-catch and it's finished. Even so, this is the first door in the whole bloody house with real, working, "finished" hardware. Not even the front door can boast this.

Emboldened, I descended upon the hall, a never-ending war of attrition. I'm moving forward, but who ever put the 100,000 staples in the foyer wall should have their private parts stomped. Considerer yourself warned.

I'm going to try to smuggle out one last post today. Then, I'll have to slip back into radio silence for Friday, Saturday, and, maybe Sunday. The enemy is always watching.

Run silent, run deep. Then, blow the bastards out of the water, right?