It's hard to believe that someone can spend an entire morning looking at dining room tables on Craigslist, but this, in fact was what Ed and I did today.
Let me explain.
The weather isn't suitable for outdoor cavorting. Too cold. A high of 20F (-6C). And cloudy. At least the snow lump (aka snowman) wont melt.
Why not use the moment to push ahead with something I have wanted for a long time: the acquisition of a table that extends to a size that can comfortably accommodate more than six? Nine or ten would be fabulous! Obviously I have my growing family on my mind.
Predictably, I find something perfect online: new, beautiful, solid. It's even called a "harvest" table -- ah, the imagery! Gathering to eat farmers market bounty around the harvest table!
Ed balks. New. Not too expensive, but still, not cheap either. But worst of all -- new.
I'll pay for it! (My usual retort when I sense lackluster support.)
Have you checked Craigslist? (His usual retort to get me to reconsider.)
I must add that he has lost considerable weight in the discussion ever since we spent all last week talking about the farmhouse and its interior spaces. The conclusion was that my word carries for the farmhouse. Well then, if I love the harvest table, shouldn't it grace the farmhouse kitchen?
How about this one? (Ed persists, finding something one third the price and one tenth the beauty on Craigslist.)
It's okay... (I just love the harvest table!)
This one is like what we have here now, only with additional leaves!
I smile at that. What we have here now is a table that Ed bought in Shopko (a discount bigbox) to lure me to the farmhouse. Just to hang out here occasionally. And I came, and I would work on my lectures at that table, even as the farmhouse was still in a very sorry state. I suppose I love it for what it was then -- Ed's great desire for me to feel comfortable at the farmette.
Of course, we're years and years beyond that time. I've moved here. We've rebuilt and furnished the place. We have a new-ish couch! And my family (and thus by extension, our family) is growing.
I want a bigger table that can fit everyone. This then is our morning.
Of course, there was a lovely breakfast...
But the rest of the hours are devoted to studying wooden legs and tabletops.
If I am reluctantly pulled over to the Craigslist options, I'm determined to at least visit that, what is not to be. Rubin's, the furniture store sporting the harvest table is on my way to the bakery where I pick up Snowdrop's croissant! This surely means I should pop over for a look at this piece of farm-inspired wonder.
As I step into the store, I try to hold in check my love for the "harvest" masterpiece. There it is! Lovely, yes, but what's this? The color... It's not the warm orange brown... It's rather yellow and dull. It would look awful with our chairs, cabinets, all of it.
Good riddance harvest beauty! I fire off a text message to a Craigslist vendor and ask about a boring but serviceable table. And get no response. Oh, the tribulations of furniture acquisition!
To be continued.
The afternoon, on the other hand, belongs to Snowdrop.
It's sunny now, but still so very cold!
I pick the little girl up at school.
Am I imagining it, or do you have one pink sock? (It's her doing: she loves raiding her cubby for spare clothes.)
At the farmhouse she is full of grand ideas on what to do.
And of course, eventually, she is back with the shopping/cooking/eating stuff.
Ahah, you have to come over and sit down with us!
There's always a lot of laughter at her table. Always.
Apart form the time we spend reading, she is on the move constantly. Here, she's taking one of her kids for a bike ride.
And then out come the balls and she leads us in a spirited "kick the ball" game. Gags, kick it hard, like this!
And then lift me up and make me fly!
Snowdrop, you are getting to be so heavy!
Please!
I lift her up and make her fly and I'm thinking -- surely this afternoon more than compensates physically for the walk untaken and spiritually for the table unpurchased!
But if you think I'm ready to start cooking up a storm after the little one goes home -- forget it. I make a salad and reheat leftovers. Ed beams: finally, you're learning to appreciate the matured panoply of leftover flavors!
Sometimes, Ed can be very predictable.
Let me explain.
The weather isn't suitable for outdoor cavorting. Too cold. A high of 20F (-6C). And cloudy. At least the snow lump (aka snowman) wont melt.
Why not use the moment to push ahead with something I have wanted for a long time: the acquisition of a table that extends to a size that can comfortably accommodate more than six? Nine or ten would be fabulous! Obviously I have my growing family on my mind.
Predictably, I find something perfect online: new, beautiful, solid. It's even called a "harvest" table -- ah, the imagery! Gathering to eat farmers market bounty around the harvest table!
Ed balks. New. Not too expensive, but still, not cheap either. But worst of all -- new.
I'll pay for it! (My usual retort when I sense lackluster support.)
Have you checked Craigslist? (His usual retort to get me to reconsider.)
I must add that he has lost considerable weight in the discussion ever since we spent all last week talking about the farmhouse and its interior spaces. The conclusion was that my word carries for the farmhouse. Well then, if I love the harvest table, shouldn't it grace the farmhouse kitchen?
How about this one? (Ed persists, finding something one third the price and one tenth the beauty on Craigslist.)
It's okay... (I just love the harvest table!)
This one is like what we have here now, only with additional leaves!
I smile at that. What we have here now is a table that Ed bought in Shopko (a discount bigbox) to lure me to the farmhouse. Just to hang out here occasionally. And I came, and I would work on my lectures at that table, even as the farmhouse was still in a very sorry state. I suppose I love it for what it was then -- Ed's great desire for me to feel comfortable at the farmette.
Of course, we're years and years beyond that time. I've moved here. We've rebuilt and furnished the place. We have a new-ish couch! And my family (and thus by extension, our family) is growing.
I want a bigger table that can fit everyone. This then is our morning.
Of course, there was a lovely breakfast...
But the rest of the hours are devoted to studying wooden legs and tabletops.
If I am reluctantly pulled over to the Craigslist options, I'm determined to at least visit that, what is not to be. Rubin's, the furniture store sporting the harvest table is on my way to the bakery where I pick up Snowdrop's croissant! This surely means I should pop over for a look at this piece of farm-inspired wonder.
As I step into the store, I try to hold in check my love for the "harvest" masterpiece. There it is! Lovely, yes, but what's this? The color... It's not the warm orange brown... It's rather yellow and dull. It would look awful with our chairs, cabinets, all of it.
Good riddance harvest beauty! I fire off a text message to a Craigslist vendor and ask about a boring but serviceable table. And get no response. Oh, the tribulations of furniture acquisition!
To be continued.
The afternoon, on the other hand, belongs to Snowdrop.
It's sunny now, but still so very cold!
I pick the little girl up at school.
Am I imagining it, or do you have one pink sock? (It's her doing: she loves raiding her cubby for spare clothes.)
At the farmhouse she is full of grand ideas on what to do.
And of course, eventually, she is back with the shopping/cooking/eating stuff.
Ahah, you have to come over and sit down with us!
There's always a lot of laughter at her table. Always.
Apart form the time we spend reading, she is on the move constantly. Here, she's taking one of her kids for a bike ride.
And then out come the balls and she leads us in a spirited "kick the ball" game. Gags, kick it hard, like this!
And then lift me up and make me fly!
Snowdrop, you are getting to be so heavy!
Please!
I lift her up and make her fly and I'm thinking -- surely this afternoon more than compensates physically for the walk untaken and spiritually for the table unpurchased!
But if you think I'm ready to start cooking up a storm after the little one goes home -- forget it. I make a salad and reheat leftovers. Ed beams: finally, you're learning to appreciate the matured panoply of leftover flavors!
Sometimes, Ed can be very predictable.
