One of the more loathsome daily reminders of the decorating taste of the former owner of our condo, who I tend to call “that woman,” is her dining room light fixture:

The picture is a little blurry, so you are spared seeing the dragonflies decorating the lampshade, and the sickly-looking amber plastic beading dangling about. This light fixture hung low enough that I could easily smack my head into it when I mopped, and I’m short.

So we replaced it with this light fixture, which looks like a benevolent glowing UFO when it is turned on: