Illumination at the Lighting Showroom

Light imitates art.
Light imitates art.

So we bought this old house in Providence, as you know already if you have been reading this blog.  It’s in fairly good shape: quite comfortable inside, has a new kitchen, central air conditioning, and acceptable plumbing.  There is ample opportunity, however, for updating some of the rooms to make them a bit brighter and more appealing.

We have plenty of windows, but could use some better interior lighting.  We thought we’d start by getting a new chandelier for the dining room, and also add some recessed lights and a ceiling fixture to the living room.  This should give us a lovely layering of light throughout the downstairs.  Our electrician agrees, and can install these lights for us, but after inspecting the house he gave us the bad news that he needs to replace our overloaded breaker box and much of our wiring.  Although we had hoped to hear that our wiring is safe, efficient and ready for any kind of demand, the news was not entirely unexpected.  (Kind of like how I always hope my doctor will say, “You are in great shape, and you can eat ice cream more and exercise less.”  And he actually says, “You should get a colonoscopy.”)

Since we have to get that electrical stuff done, we figured we’d go ahead and replace all of the lighting fixtures throughout the house that we don’t like, i.e., most of them.  We went to the lighting showroom with a list of the rooms that we want to transform into clean, well-lighted places.  Our very helpful sales rep, Mark, let us wander around the showroom gazing up at lights for a while.  Then he listened patiently to our rambling and not-always-coinciding descriptions of the types of lighting fixtures we like, explained about LED vs. incandescent lighting, and brought out catalogs for the three of us to page through.

For our foyer, Jeff and I both liked a pendant light from Hinkley called “Mondrian”.  It’s interesting but not too dramatic, a composition of clear and semi-opaque glass rectangles and squares fitted into a metal box frame.  Here’s an advertising photo of a hipster couple lounging under two Mondrian lights.

Extreme coolness
Extreme coolness

I jotted down the name, and we continued looking at other options.  After a while Jeff said, “I think I like that Mandarin light the best.”  I said, “It’s Mondrian.”  Mark said, “Do you want me to look up the model number for the Mandarin light?”  I said, “Yes, but it’s Mondrian, not Mandarin.”  Jeff said, “I thought it was Mandarin.”  Mark said, “Yeah, it’s Mandarin, like the chicken.”  I said, “No, it’s M O N D R I A N, you know, like Piet Mondrian, the artist?”  Blank stares.  “C’mon guys, Mondrian, the painter who did those abstract paintings with colorful rectangles and squares.”  More blank stares.  I searched using my phone and brought up a couple of images to show them.  Jeff said, “Oh yeah, that looks familiar.”  Mark shook his head, and called out to another sales rep, “Hey Billy, come over here and look at this.”  Then, “You ever see anything like this, what’s it, not Mandarin but something else?”  I said, “It’s Mondrian.”  “Nope, never seen anything like that,” Billy replied after looking at the images displayed on my phone.  “But we don’t get out much around here!”

Piet Mondrian, Composition with Large Red Plane, Yellow, Black, Gray and Blue
Piet Mondrian: Composition with Large Red Plane, Yellow, Black, Gray and Blue

We had a good laugh, then finished selecting the rest of our lights.  As we were getting ready to leave, Mark said, “You guys are funny.  You should come here more often.  And I learned something about art today!”  As we were driving home, Jeff said, “That Monderan light is going to look great in our foyer.”  And I, ever the straight man, said, “It’s Mondrian.”

Our current chandelier: shabby chic or just shabby?
Our current chandelier: shabby chic or just shabby?

You’ve Got Milk

My milk box from Munroe Dairy
My milk box from Munroe Dairy

Jeff announced our first delivery from Munroe Dairy as he carried in the crate: “You’ve got milk!”  We’d gotten milk, also yogurt, butter and eggs, spinach pies, chicken salad and English muffins.  Nicely chilled and well-wrapped, the items were delivered to our back door early Monday morning and placed inside an insulated metal milk box decorated with a stenciled cow on the front.

Home dairy delivery seems like a throwback to a bygone era when moms were likely to be at home, milk came in glass bottles, and dairy products were good for you.  But it makes just as much sense today.  No one has time to, or wants to, go to the grocery store.  Glass bottles keep the milk icy cold, and can be returned, sterilized and refilled many times.  Dairy products get a bad rap these days, but most of us aren’t going to give up cheese, butter, yogurt and ice cream.

The milk delivery service from Munroe Dairy, like many other experiences I’ve had since moving to Providence RI, has a friendly vibe.  Our milkman Sean comes every Monday to deliver our order, which we can place any time up to midnight the night before.  I get nice little text messages from Sean (“Hi, this is your milkman Sean … ”) reminding me to place my order.  If I don’t feel like calling in my order or submitting it online, I can text Sean a list of what I want.  The little Customer Preferences form I received with my welcome packet includes the question, “Do you have any hobbies or interests?”  Ok, that’s a bit much – I don’t anticipate getting together with my milkman to jam on the ukulele or shop for shoes – but I appreciate the sentiment.

I have another milk story from last week.  Sophie and I went to the Avon Theater on Thayer Street to see “Hunt for the Wilderpeople”.  Like all my favorite movie theaters, the Avon sells coffee.  (They also sell cough drops!  Brilliant.)  Back to the coffee: the man taking tickets in the lobby noticed that I was pouring a cup of coffee from the self-serve thermos and asked me if I’d like milk or cream.  When I said, “Yes, milk please,” he replied, “I was afraid of that. We just ran out of milk!”  He called up to the manager, who came down the stairs from his office and said, “Go ahead into the theater and find a seat. I’ll be back in five minutes with some milk.”  The manager walked down the block to a convenience store and returned with milk and cream, then headed into the theater to find me.

Actually, I’m not that fond of milk.  I’ll pour a little over my cereal, and add a bit to my coffee, but otherwise I never touch the stuff.  It’s so bland, so white, so … milky!  But how nice it is to see people going out of their way to get it for me, as if being attentive, kind and considerate were just part of a day’s work.  Got milk?  I sure do, and it’s never tasted so good.

milk-bottle-with-text