I’ve entered my lamp-lovin’ phase, I think. I don’t have many lamps in my home. I know, I know…I really should. But the only actual lamps I can think of are in my bedroom, my younger son’s bedroom and our dining room. My house has pathetic lighting to begin with, so I could use some extra bulbs burning brightly, or dimly, or alternating between the two. Over the past week, I’ve purchased nine lamps. Two floor lamps, a pair of matching bedside lamps that need to be rewired, three matching lamps with girly-girl shades, a very shabby lamp that I topped with a perfectly ratty old shade and some crystals and immediately took to the shop, and a Rembrandt lamp that I intend to keep. Here’s a peek at the Rembrandt lamp:
Isn’t she lovely? I have a friend that rewires lamps, so she’s going to take a look at her for me. She’s a keeper, for sure.
So maybe my lamp phase is colliding with my fussy, frilly feminine phase, ’cause I also took a liking to these:
They have the prettiest little rose details:
I’m in love…BUT…they’re going to the shop tomorrow. Their mate will stay at my house for the time being, however, but not forever. Here she is:
One more view of the lampshade:
Okay…maybe ONE more:
Now I’m done gushing. So what do you think? Have I gone mad? One last photo before I hit the hay. This is one of a couple of floor lamps I got at auction:
Now it’s time to turn OUT the lights. The party’s over…
