Stories From the Dog Bed

Here I sit, in my half completed writing room.  A few months worth of sweat, blood and tears and I’m almost there. Almost.

I like to consider myself a decently skilled DIYer.  I’ve watched more than a few reruns of Renovation Realities on the DIY Network.  If you ever need to feel good about yourself, just watch an episodes of this show.  I swear to God, if I ever said some of the things these guys say to their significant others, I would be pushing up daisies.

The new wood floors are down, baseboards in, trim work done and all the walls painted.  Sound like a job completed you say?  Then why am I still writing from the dog bed?

writer on a dog bed

writer on a dog bed

The desks and credenzas will be finished soon, but in the interim, I’ve been relegated to using any space available.  And, often that creative space has been the dog bed.  My dogs look at me like I’ve lost my mind when I settle into their fluffy little nest.  They will come and either pile on the bed with me, or bring me a ball to lure me away.

Get the ball!  Get the ball!

Get the ball! Get the ball!

If that weren’t quirky enough, I’m writing from the dog bed, in the dark.  Dark, you say?  Then turn on the overheard light, the one on that fancy new ceiling fan you bought that squeezed the last dime out of your renovation budget.

Good idea, let me go flip the light switch.

Nothing happens…

Because the fancy new ceiling fan looks like this.

minimalist ceiling fan design

minimalist ceiling fan design

Ceiling fans are supposed to go on the ceiling, rather than become an art piece on the floor.

ceiling fan as art

ceiling fan as art

It seems that one piece, one not so insignificant piece, was missing from the fan’s factory sealed container.  A part called a mounting ball that holds the fan into the ceiling bracket.  Kind of important, I would guess.  To the fan manufacturer, apparently, the part is something akin to a prostate, something you don’t think about until it doesn’t work.

And tracking down the missing part was something of a prostate exam.  The manufacturer’s website provides all kinds of instructions and tutorials on installation and operation.  But you have to have the mounting ball.  Their FAQ’s link, concerns me because they have a link, “What to do if you’re missing a part.”  LIKE A MOUNTING BALL.  Their advice – go to where you came from.  Well not exactly in those words, but I needed to go talk to the distributor to get a replacement part.

The anger sharks are swimming in my head.


Luckily, the place I needed to find isn’t far from home, so off I went.  Unluckily, they don’t have the part in stock.  It will be a special order and it will take a week to get it here.  Customer service has gone the way of the Albatross and Pig-Footed Bandicoot – extinct.

I’m doomed to a lightless writing cave.  Maybe I’ll take up cave painting.


Courtesy of  Soon to adorn my wall

Courtesy of Soon to adorn my wall

The good news is that the mill called and the desks will be done this week.    Until then, I’m writing Stories From the Dog Bed, in the Dark.



  1. Sounds like you have a little time to exercise your patience. If you’re anything like me your favorite line from Princess Bride is “I hate waiting.”

    It looks good so far. Good luck with your final stretch. 🙂

  2. Patience and I are not on regular speaking terms. Thanks and I think the room will turn out nice, if the dogs will let me share the bed for just a bit longer. And one of my favorite lines from Princess Bride is, “Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.” Take care…

  3. Barb Lauinger · · Reply

    Jim didn’t you read under the covers with a flashlight when you were a kid? There’s your answer. Get a miner’s helmet and turn on the light, or better yet get a snake light and wrap/twist it around your head. I’ve seen this work before.

    1. Only if the snake light is made from a real snake. That I would like to see.

  4. Looks like there is some natural light coming in (and a good excuse to procrastinate once the sun goes down). Hang in there…

    1. Actually, there is a good deal of natural light in the space. But, you know, I invoked a bit of dramatic license.

  5. stephanie710 · · Reply

    LOL…I like your stories from the dog bed. 🙂 I give you a lot of credit, my friend because had I attempted any renovations, the house would have already burned to the ground. Perhaps you should consider investing in a miner’s hat. Good luck and the dogs will keep you on point, they always do.

    1. I’ve been very lucky on this project. No major injuries, power outages, or lost dogs. I think that’s a success all around. I’ve heard that miner’s helmets are the new black…

  6. […] mentioned Emma and Tanner the Corgis in a few previous posts. I write with them and they are both trained as Therapy […]

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