This is a little bit specialist. I don’t expect anyone to agree with me on this one but I love a wiring diagram. Or, better yet, a tangle.
Oh, but I enjoy a tangle.
This was in my attic.
One of about forty-three junction boxes, filling the attic space of a small-ish bungalow. They had been fitted and added to by some very industrious, but occasionally clueless, odd-jobbers who meant well, but should have left it at that.
It took me ages to unpick it all. The electrically-inclined among you might have noticed there are no strappers. As such, it took quite a lot of detective work on my part to identify the switch lives, and, okay, this might sound like the most dull thing ever in a list of 365 Happy Things, but when I rewired my house, I was a shade over thirty and a smidge under five foot four.
The fact that the house hasn’t burnt down in the ensuing years remains something of which I am unutterably proud.