Two hundred and forty bulbs. One of them doesn’t work. Which of course means none of them work. Brilliant. Of course testing them before I’d wrapped the two hundred metres of flex around the tree might have been a good idea. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Still three hours well spent, I think. Testing. Retesting. Re-retesting. Every single bulb. Two or three times.
It was the fuse.
Merry Christmas, Ho, Ho, Ho.
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