We’re making good progress on the addition to our home. The outside walls are up. The inside walls are framed and waiting for drywall. I even have a hole in the floor for the toilet pipes. I can see the rooms taking shape and I’m getting excited.
Saturday we decided to do the electrical work. Many years ago my husband wired the basement. He has a good idea what’s going on. I, on the other hand, do not. I wanted to learn so he decided to teach me.
I started with a plug. He walked me through step-by-step until it was all wired and in the wall. It looked so cute. All nice and neat and ready for electricity to bring it to life. I felt a bit like Dr. Frankenstein. It was just a little bit though…
I made my way down one wall of plugs and up the next. My husband was one plug ahead of me feeding the wires and setting out the hardware. By the last one, I knew what I was doing. It felt great. We had wired a set of plugs. I could have wired plugs for the whole rest of the day.
I’m not sure why I felt so excited about learning how to wire a plug. It’s not a skill I’ll use on a regular basis. There was no need for me to learn how to wire a plug. I did it because I wanted to. My husband helped me – because I wanted him to. We’re a good team. We’ve always worked well together. Sometimes I forget that. It was nice to have a 120-volt reminder.
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