One Room Challenge Week 2: Scope Creep, Spotlight Dreams & the Realities of Old House Electrical Work

If you’ve been following along for a while, you know that when we commit to an 8-week project… it sometimes turns into a 24-week project. So the fact that Week 2 of the One Room Challenge is already teetering on the edge of full-blown scope creep? Not a great sign.

This week was supposed to be simple: finalize lighting plans and remove the built-in corner cabinet. But in true old house fashion, we found ourselves caught in the familiar spiral of "while we’re at it..."

Let’s back up.

The Electrical Reality of a 200-Year-Old Home

When Robins Hollow was built, electricity didn’t even exist. In fact, in the basement, we still have the original fuse box with glass fuses with cloth wrapped wiring —the kind that powered a few dim bulbs long before modern code existed. Later, in more recent years, a modern electrical panel was installed… sort of.

Right now, the dining room has exactly two ungrounded outlets and a single overhead light. For a room this size, it’s shockingly underlit. Our plan has always included upgrading the lighting—adding layered options to create ambiance and function for long dinners and cozy evenings.

But when we brought in an electrician to begin planning the install, things quickly escalated.

From Panel Upgrade to Service Upgrade to… Underground?

It started with the panel. Our current electrical box is full, and to add lighting to the dining room, we’d need to upgrade it. Fair enough.

Then came the suggestion: “Given the size of the property and your long-term plans, have you considered upgrading to 300 amp service?”

That would allow us to support outbuildings, future HVAC upgrades, and all the inevitable demands of a modern household layered on top of a historic home. It made sense. It just wasn’t in the budget—or the plan—for a dining room project.

But the questions kept coming.

If we were upgrading the service anyway... should we bury the power lines? Right now, they run above-ground straight into the front of the house, completely exposed. It’s the first thing you see when you arrive at Robins Hollow. Burying them would be a major improvement for both aesthetics and safety—but it would also be a major expansion in scope and cost.

This is the invisible part of renovation that no one talks about enough. Electrical panels, service upgrades, conduit trenches... all things that will never show up in a before-and-after shot. But they’re crucial, and they stack up fast.

Sean’s Spotlight Vision (And the Warm Dim that Won Me Over)

While we debated the larger electrical questions, we started finalizing lighting layouts. Sean had a vision: a series of subtle spotlights casting a warm glow across artwork and paneling—think elegant gallery lighting, not overly lit ceiling cans.

The options from the electrician were fine. Standard contractor-grade trims. Functional, but not special.

So we took a field trip to Southampton. REVCO was closed, and we wandered into Visual Comfort, mostly just to browse.

That’s when Sean found them: the Quiet Ceiling fixtures.

They’re flush-mounted, glare-free, and almost invisible when off. The trim recesses deep into the ceiling so the light disappears into the architecture. It’s a minimalist dream—and a far cry from the blinding downlights most of us grew up with.

What ultimately sold me (besides Sean's enthusiasm)? The warm dim setting. These lights can shift from bright white to the equivalent of candlelight. Imagine a dinner party, music playing, candles on the table—and the room subtly lit with the same golden hue. I was in.

Of course, these fixtures are significantly more expensive than standard cans. But sometimes, especially in a room meant for gathering, lighting is everything. We, of course, went with the Entra.

The Frustration of Invisible Progress

So much of what we’ve tackled this week won’t be obvious to anyone else. Unless you’ve lived with bad lighting or stood in a dimly lit dining room trying to host a dinner party, you may not understand the transformation we’re aiming for.

And that’s the hardest part of old house renovations—spending real money on things that are meant to disappear.

New drywall? Plumbing upgrades? A hidden panel behind a sconce? You’ll never get the same satisfaction as a dramatic before-and-after. But you’ll feel it every single day.

That’s the shift we’re learning to embrace at Robins Hollow. We want our home to feel better, not just look better.

What’s Next?

Coming up next week: some plaster research (because of course, the walls didn’t survive electrical upgrades unscathed). We’re also finalizing our paint color and trying to lock in flooring decisions—because yes, the carpet is still here, and yes, it still needs to go.

Join the Conversation

Have you ever gotten caught in renovation scope creep? Did a “small” project turn into a house-wide upgrade? Tell us in the comments—misery loves company.

And if you’re curious to see how all of this plays out in real time, follow us on Instagram @robinshollow. We’re sharing behind-the-scenes stories, lighting debates, and yes, cabinet demolition content.

See you in Week 3!

—Lisa & Sean