Let there be light

And then let there be dark. Please.

 There’s a light switch not working, Dear Liza, Dear Liza
There’s a light switch not working, Dear Liza, it’s-not-working.

It packed in a little while ago, now, the light switch in the bedroom. Which is annoying enough, but this is special light switch. It’s a funky touch-it-and-it-dims light switch, so when you turn it on half-asleep in the morning, you crash around and trip over the cat while trying to find your socks surrounded by soft-mood radiance. Doesn’t do much for my mood, nor the cat’s.

The problem is, it didn’t just stop working, it stopped working on. Soft mood lighting for ever, 24 hours a day.

I’m one of those pesky sleepers for whom the light from the alarm clock is too bright, so heaven help us if we ever have to sleep in a room full of the latest technology all lit up like the flight deck of the Starship Enterprise. I go round barricading things with cushions, or applying parcel tape. Black out blinds and thick curtains, absolutely necessary. You can imagine what the prospect of all-day sunshine did for me.

So mend it, Dear Henry, Dear Henry, Dear Henry
So mend it Dear Henry, Dear Henry Mend It. Please. Now.

Dear Henry is the kind of person who can sleep through the support band introducing an Iron Maiden concert. No kidding – I witnessed it. So lighting, mood or otherwise, does not trouble him; but he knew my mood would.

With what shall I mend it, Dear Liza, Dear Liza
With what shall I mend it, Dear Liza, with what?

Um, with something simple, maybe? You know, one of those old-fashioned jobbies that you click and it goes on, click and it goes off?

With a light switch Dear Henry, Dear Henry, Dear Henry
Just one of those normal ones will do just fine. Thank you ever so.

And Dear Henry, who is very good at stuff like that, replaced the light switch. But it’s not a simple click-on-click-off job. There was spare dimmer one hanging around somewhere (what, you don’t keep spare dimmer switches to hand? Come on! Your life is not complete! We’ve been known to find a spare dishwasher lurking in the depths of the garage) so of course why not use it?

It’s ever so nice. It’s even got a funky black finger plate. Dead posh. And in the middle, where you touch to turn it on, there’s a little blue light so you can see where it is in the dark.

It glows all night.