Clearly, I am odd. That is all there is to this. I’m sure it’s me. It must be me.
Let me tell you what my smarty pants framers + contractor came up with that absolutely blew my mind and continues to wow people who walk in this house. Once upon a time the back bedroom—which has now become the sitting area in the kitchen—had ceiling joists. I know. Shocker. You weren’t expecting that were you?
When they vaulted the back of the kitchen, out went the ceiling joists and in marched light and air and space and a feeling of wide-openness that makes me happy and settles my soul. It’s just nice and I absolutely cannot get over the thoughtfulness the guys give this project. Grateful. Grateful is what I am.
The ceiling joists were tossed aside for a bit but have since been repurposed. This is the smarty pants part. The ceiling joists became exposed beams that span the master suite. And they look great. The guys are kind-of out doing themselves in my book. Now I’m on the hunt for some old vintage/weathered bolts to bring a little of the industrial vibe to them.
So, we met to discuss lighting and I showed them my fancy lighting plan. Somebody won the award for client of the year when she made a color-coded floor plan. I’m just saying… We walked through with the electrician and he noted where we want what. And then we got upstairs. And the ceiling fan topic resurfaced. (A few days ago I said, “The only trouble with these beams is you can’t have a ceiling fan.” Brad says you can. You just mount the fan to the beam.)
I am a fan person. I like them in a bedroom. A lot. But I just don’t know about mounting a fan to these beams. I’m not sold.
So, the electrician asks about a fan (and I am tired of calling him the electrician but his name is French—maybe the French version of Jack—and I can’t really come up with the spelling at this early morning hour so he remains the electrician for this post). I explain to fabulous-electrician-with-a-French-name that I cannot do it. I cannot mount a fan to these beams.
And they look at me like this is not the big deal I am making of it.
And, then I said it again. Slowly, with feeling. I can’t do it. I can’t do it, guys. I cannot mount a ceiling fan to the beams. And, the electrician says every body does it. He just wired a house with four ceiling fans mounted across a room of beams. And I want to go all 5th-grade-common-sense on him and say, “Well, if everybody jumped off a cliff, would you jump, too?” But I didn’t say that. Because that would be rude. And I have finally learned not to say everything I think. And I really like the French-named electrician. And nobody likes a smart alec.
Those beams make such a pretty clean line across the room. And I’ve never met a ceiling fan that I thought made a room look better. But I’ve met one that made a room feel better.
And, I don’t know. I might get over it. Because I really would like a fan.