:: fiat lux

The kitchen ceiling's been needing attention for a while. First of all there was the light, an ancient fluorescent thing, one of the ones that does nothing for a little while after you throw the switch, then flickers and stutters as if sighing irritably before flooding the room with harsh light. One day the bulb, all three feet of it, slipped out and crashed to the floor in a squillion tiny sharp shards. I got a new bulb and secured the loose end with gaffer tape (though Faye showed me how you could just tap the end smartly with a fish slice to knock it back in).

Then one day I came home and found a big puddle of water on the kitchen floor. It was coming from the bathroom. Specifically, the tiles around the bath were only held on by mould, and every time I showered the water seeped between the tiles and the wall and thus into the kitchen. So I tore off all the tiles, let the wall dry thoroughly and retiled and grouted and sealed. Down in the kitchen the skim on the ceiling dried, split and curled.

It became more and more apparent that Something Had to be Done.

So finally, a few weeks ago now, I climbed up and ladder, measured the old light and bought a new fitting, a shiny white fluorescent one (hey! they're low-energy!) with a diffuser. I brought it home, held it up under the old one and voila! It was about a foot too long. Tsk. So I went back to the DIY shop but they didn't have a smaller one with a diffuser. I got a refund and went to another DIY shop that did. By this time it was too late to actually fit the thing, so I left it until the following weekend.

Which is when I took down the old fitting (having of course first taken out the fuse for the lighting circuit). I then held the new fitting up to the ceiling and realised it was a foot smaller. Curse! Damn! I'd been the victim of an optical illusion when I'd held the original new one up! Ach.

And then I got rocks in my ears (see previous post), which stopped me from climbing ladders.

There followed a week of squalor, with a ladder and a standard lamp filling up most of the kitchen. I scraped off all the peeling plaster, gave it a cursory rubdown, then realised I'd have to wash the ceiling with sugar soap before painting. Sigh. It's a filthy job, but worth the effort. After a few days drying I moved out all my stuff and carpeted the worktops, floor etc in newspaper and painted the ceiling. Another grim job.

Finally I spent a couple of hours teetering on the ladder and fiddling with insanely tiny screws (lost count of the number of times I dropped them) before realising I'd need to fill the gaping hole previously covered by the old, clunky light fitting. More cursing and swearing and leaving-overnight-to-dry.

At long last, the new fixture was bolted into place, the bulb inserted, the diffuser slipped on - and TA DA! It worked. It's a bluer light than the old one, which although harsh was mellowed towards the warm side of the spectrum by a baked-on layer of grease and dead flies. The best thing is that the new one comes on instantly, soon as you hit the switch.

Next on the agenda: a new door. It goes in next Wednesday. I'm taking the day off, I'm so excited.

Energised by all the DIY success I climbed up into the loft yesterday. I have a vague idea of improving the insulation up there and boarding part of the floor. Plus there is junk up there dating from the previous owner. It's hellish though: the current insulation is part fibreglass batts, part - I don't know, some kind of vile crumbly fluff. I need to do something about protecting the water tanks - they have some half-hearted lagging, but I'll have to fix it on better, or get something new.

I tidied Faye's stuff into a corner and hauled Mrs Blackett's old heaters over to the hatch. The electric one was easy enough to deal with - I just lowered it down by its flex. The gas one was heavier and had no flex. I tried wrestling it down, but decided halfway down the ladder, with the heater balanced on my chest, that it wasn't exactly safe and shoved it back up. I'll have to get some rope. I noticed in passing that its ceramic elements are healthier looking than my current gas heater's, so I may do a transplant.

After doing a lot of research I've concluded that I do probably need some more insulation up there - I can't remember the exact figures, but the depth you're supposed to have is deeper than my joists, so I'd have to extend the height of the joists or risk plunging through the ceiling every time I went up there. An alternative would be insulating the roof, but then there's a lot of faff about condensation and ventilation. So I'm plunking for ... the status quo. Some insulation is better than none, surely? And I'll just screw down some duck boards for ease of access.

The next big project on the horizon is central heating. Mine is ancient and inefficient, it desperately needs replacing with a more modern system. But which one? And how much will it cost? And which is the greenest option? Some green opinion seems to be turning against micro-generation - mini wind turbines, solar panels etc - as consuming too many resources in their manufacture. Electricity is more efficient to use than gas but is polluting to create. So I don't know. I might make up my mind and go for it next year, if I still have a job.

No progress in the garden as yet - but lots of planning!! I have just about decided where to plant the plum tree, if I ever get round to buying one. And the raised bed in completed in my head too.

In between projects I've been busy with work and long walks and a bit of socialising. Bertie is well and happy. He turned nine last month, hard to believe he's nearly into double figures. He isn't as scatty as he used to be but can still put on a show of speed when he feels like it.

Faye's doing well - she's enjoying her job still and loving living in Edinburgh.