This post brought to you by Bob Villa, the man my dad once threatened to sue after Dad cut his finger off following Villa's advice.

So that pipe from a few days ago, which was preventing Dave from installing a new light fixture in the living room, has us stumped no more.

After being advised to take a photo of the situation down to the local hardware store, we were informed that we have a very old house.

Whoa. No kidding. I mean, about 100 years old. Old.

The pipe, for all you who like to know about such things, is a gas pipe. As in, the pipe that carried gas to the gaslights installed in our home about 100 years ago.

If I could take it out of the ceiling, I'd take it to "Antiques Roadshow." But seeing as I'm afraid to step on the ladder, let alone extract the 1908-era gas pipe from the 1908-era lumber that's holding it in place, I think I'll just sit back here and admire that my house is still standing.

And also stare in awe at the light, which the hardware store worker was able to instruct my artsy-but-not-so-craftsy husband how to install. A real, working electric-powered light.