Living Beauty Full in the Burbs
Living Beauty Full in the Burbs
In 1994 I located a small Goodwill store just outside my usual haunts. I wandered around a bit and had given up on finding anything I wanted when I spied an oak table top in a corner. Instantly I knew I wanted it. It didn’t have a base but that was OK, in fact it was fine. I had a treadle sewing machine base without the cabinet. The table top was about 48″ so I knew it would fit the treadle base. Visions of a perfect marriage danced through my head! It didn’t have a price so I grabbed the first Goodwill guy I could find and asked, how much? I bought it for the insane sum of $20.00. Over priced for 1994 but I’m pretty sure I gave away how badly I wanted it, what with the all the sighing and moaning I was doing. He loaded it up and I drove back to the house where I wrestled that thing out of the car. (That’s a lie. I had help.)
My soon-to-be husband looked at it and very wisely said, “It doesn’t have a base.” Uh, keen sense of the obvious, that man. I just smiled and said, “I have a plan. I’m going to bolt it to the treadle base.” He looked dubious. He looks like that a lot. Usually when I say, “I have a plan.” But this time I knew it was a GOOD plan, if not a great one. We I needed a bigger breakfast table. The current one sat two people. Not large enough when all the kids and their friends were home or guests stopped by. So we dragged the old treadle base out of the trash treasure pile in the back of the garage and got to work. Easiest project ever. (I didn’t do any part of it.) Mr B added two lengths of scrap pine to the bottom of the table round, did a dry fit, marked where the holes for the screws would go, removed the top, pre-drilled the holes, put the top back on and screwed it all together. We stood back and looked at it for a moment. It was a beautiful marriage. A match made in Goodwill.
That table has been in the breakfast nook in both our homes. It’s hosted many birthday parties, dinners, late night conversations, crafting projects and game nights. It’s a great table. A perfect size for our small nook. It does have a tiny big flaw. It’s a knee banger. You must sit very carefully or else run the risk of banging your knees on the ends of the treadle. MY side is perfect, I got the side where you’d sit if you were sewing. So plenty of room for both my knees. Ditto for anyone sitting across from me. Anyone sitting at the ends does so at their own risk. The odd band-aid on one or both knees is proof that the table does not discriminate. All knees are fair game. Sometimes one must pay a price for a really great table, right?
The color of that golden oak was fine. In the early years. I loved classic country then and wood was still king. I lovingly sanded it and used tung oil to protect it. A few years later I sanded it again and applied a fresh coat of tung oil to renew it. It’s been that way forever. I’ve not been a fan of the golden oak color since we had our floors installed about 12 years ago. Too matchy matchy. It’s outdated. My style has changed. But it was low on the priority list of things I wanted to do. Life was busy. It could wait. It’s a fine table. It’s sturdy. We can eat on it. But this past year, just before Christmas, a few days before guests were arriving I said to Mr B, while looking at the table, “I have a plan.” He didn’t really have the dubious look this time, it was more the, “are you nuts?” look. Whatever. He took it apart, carefully maneuvered it through the house, out to the garage and set up the workmate. Then he looked at me, “You sure?” “Yep.” I got my tools and supplies and went to work. Some sanding and a coat of stripper, a final sand and it was ready for paint.
I used one of my favorite shades of white, Valspar’s Hotel Churchill Vanilla. It’s a creamy white, almost ivory, and works well with the other shades of white and cream in the house. One coat and I started getting excited, the table looked happy. All was well. I left it to dry and started doing a happy dance. It was so pretty in white! Next day it got another coat of paint and then I let it dry again. Mr B reversed his maneuvers and put the table back together in the house. Success! And I loved it. Except I no longer loved the golden oak church pew that sits behind it. That’s my place and it didn’t look right anymore. But I have a plan. (Another post for another day.) Back to the table……I put my pot of winter greens in the center along with my mismatched salt and pepper shakers and basked in the glow of a job well done. Except it wasn’t.
Not well done at all as it turns out. The paint didn’t cure. Things stuck to it. When I picked up the salt shaker it made a slight sucking noise. Not good. No paint pulled up, but this wasn’t a good sign. OK, just let it dry for a few days and all will be well, I thought. But I had guests coming over!!! No worries. The party isn’t for a couple of days, I’ll just leave the table bare until shortly before they arrive. The party was a success and there was no apparent damage to the table. It held up well. But for the next few weeks we dealt with things sticking. Placemats, cups, the mismatched salt and pepper shakers. Anything and everything stuck to the table. But I had a plan.
I’ve painted furniture for years. Years! The only time I’ve had paint fail to cure is, A. When the paint was very old and thick. B. If I put paint on too thickly. C. If I didn’t wait for the coats to dry in between. None of these were true in this case. I’m confident I did everything right. Sigh. Back under the table went Mr B, unscrewed it and maneuvered it out to the garage. Again. To his credit, he said nothing. I got no “looks,” not even a comment under his breath. He just set it up and let me do my thing. Some sanding and a coat of stripper. A little lot more sanding. Soon I saw beautiful oak grain again, in its natural pale color. There were a few stubborn spots and streaks of white paint. At least those spots cured, they didn’t want to come off. I started to get my paint out and thought, WAIT. WHAT IF……..?? The table is back in the house, joined to its mate once more. I’ve decided to get a glass top for it. I’ve decided to lime wax it. I’ve decided to paint it again. I have a great no plan. But that church pew? Oh yeah, I have a plan.
Recent Comments