There is one thing about the power of paint that never ceases to amaze me...it's the ability of it to transform. Everything becomes a canvas. Even a junky old colonial pine coffee table that nobody wanted at auction.

Oh those silly folks who passed by it and couldn't see it's potential. Shame on them, but bonus for me!
So, I paid for this orphan and brought it home, and I knew exactly what to do it with it.  It's a sizeable table, measuring 60w x 29d...so I'm going for a Pottery Barn look, with a butcher block natural top.

Step 1:
Using Zip stripper, we removed the old lacquer from the top and then sanded it down to the natural pine. Make sure and wear a mask! I like Zip because it's effective and can you can start stripping within just a few minutes. Put it on thicker rather than thinner and it really works.

Step 2:
I sanded the piece all over, and removed the old hardware, getting it ready for painting. Once sanded, two coats of black paint and primer were applied, and the distressed along the edges after it dries.

Step 3. Apply two coats of wax, or polyurethane, whichever works for you...I applied wax to keep a lower sheen.

Step 4.: We got some jumbo wheels from Lowe's, which cost about $15each. I also redrilled the holes for new hardware, about $4 each... worthwhile investment for the industrial look.

What difference from BEFORE to AFTER!

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My No-Good-Rotten-Very-Bad Day

I guess my son got to see a new side of Mommy today. Let's just call her "Spastic Fit Raging Tantrum" Mommy. Not pretty. After a rough day of feeling emotionally and physically drained after eight weeks now of moving, cleaning, moving again, cleaning, reorganizing, some more moving, and painting, all in scorching heat and working in a hot warehouse, and now feeling like I've been living out "of a suitcase" for the past few weeks, piled on top of personal issues, I think I finally hit bottom. Unloading my truck I slammed my finger and it took Jesus and all the Saints to keep me from swearing in front of my son, only to turn around and start kicking my bumper in frustration like a crackhead. My son looked at me like he saw the real Hulk in the flesh...."Are you okay, Mommy??". Answer, "No".  And then I took a deep breath and apologized for having lost it, and buckled my baby into his seat. Still all the while, he was staring at me like he had seen the devil himself. Then on the car ride home someone cut me off and then blamed me for driving legally, and SFRT Mommy resurfaced and a finger went into the air which thankfully by the time the impulse went from my brain to my hand, was my index finger. "IDIOT!!!!!!!"  I shouted with righteous indignation, pointing into the air. And my son cracked up from the backseat. And then I couldn't help but laugh, too.  What idiots we all are. Wrapped up in our little daily dramas, it is so easy to lose sight of how BLESSED we are. It is a blessing to work hard. It is a blessing to work at all. It is a blessing to have a strong back and legs and arms. It is a blessing to not have any major health issues. It is a blessing to provide for my son. It is a blessing to have him, to have a car to drive, to love what I do for a living, to have a roof over our head, to have so many great and kind people follow this page, and a blessing to inspire and be inspired. I have nothing to complain about. Have a blessed day tomorrow. Sleep well, my friends.

A Building by Any Other Name...

As many of you know, we are moving our shop. We are not sure where and we have to move soon. There is a deadline for this move. But, if you think I am in a panic about moving, yet not knowing where exactly we are moving to, you would be wrong. Let me explain:

Growing up we moved around a bit, and it was truly painful for me to attempt to make new friends. I would have rather cut my arm off than say hello to someone I didn't know. High school wasn't much better. I hated every minute of it. Unpopular and awkward, I never felt I quite fit in anywhere. I had anxiety. I was emotional. I was insecure. I had bad hair, a back brace, and boys terrified me. I often felt rejected and lonely.  Eventually, after my college years, I grew out of my awkwardness and anxiety and began to find confidence and who I was and my place in the world. I learned to make bricks out of the mud of my past. With practice, I began to build myself from the ground up. I still battled with loneliness and shyness, but managed it by forcing myself out of comfort zones where I hid from life.  I learned to make bricks. Out of the mud. Over and over, until the pillars in myself raised higher and thicker, making me solid throughout. There is a reason why ancient monuments, thousand of years old, still stand. It's because someone took mud and made simple bricks. And every solid structure begins with just one brick. One brick at a time. Until something magnificent is achieved.
So a few years ago when personal crisis in my life tried to knock me down, and my business was at it's lowest, I held fast and creaked and wavered, but I did not crumble. The foundation held. In fact, this building is stronger than ever. Now I've grown reinforced steel girders.
So wherever we land, whatever roof is over our heads, makes no difference. If things are up in the air, I will just land square on my feet. And the building will hold and stand the test of time.

I will keep you all posted!

                                         Ten years ago when I started my business

 

And  now...

Home is....

Been thinking about what home is lately, and what makes a home. And here is what it is to me:

 

It's wherever you are loved.

 It's wherever you find yourself under a warm blanket.

It's when you are with someone who makes you laugh until you toot and then you both laugh even harder.

It's wherever someone makes you soup.

It's where there is a well worn scrabble board.

 It's where random hugs happen.

It's where there is tender wisdom given.

It's where you can cry full on, and someone runs to hand you a Kleenex.

It's where warm cookies are baked whether you're on a diet or not.

It's where there is imperfect furnishings.

It's where there is a pot of coffee on often.

 It's where there is more laughter than tears, and laughter through tears.

It's wherever "I love you" is said daily.

 It's wherever you can put your hair in a scrunchie and slip into ratty sweatpants.

 It's where a sense of humor is not optional.

 It's where people can tell you truth, because they love you.

 It's where someone will always have your back.

 It's where someone gives good back rubs.

It's where someone says, "You're weird" after you act totally goofy and weird.

There are pets.

There are jammie days.

There is French toast.

 It's where I can be my strange, disorderly, mischevious, flip-out, soulful, and messy self.

 

 

"Home" by Phillip Phillips

http://youtu.be/HoRkntoHkIE