When Good Furniture Goes Bad

It can turn on you at any given moment, even when you've raised it from infancy.

A friend of mine's parents are downsizing and she asked me if I could sell a few pieces of furniture for them that they didn't want to let go at yard sale prices. Sure! I said; Bring whatever you have... knowing that this family has impeccable taste in the spirit of Salvage Chic.

She arrived a few days later with some fabulous items and this old gossip bench that looked great at first glance but on further inspection, it had some issues. I guess they used it on their porch and there were some spots where the black paint had flaked off revealing pink underneath. It just didn't look right and I was about to say something when I realized - DOH! Her mom bought that piece from ME a few years ago! So much for that paint that was billed as one-coat-everlasting-coverage.

The bench landed in the shop's back room and sat there for a few days like that
Elephant In The Room that no one wants to talk about. I was vaguely toying with the idea of trying to find a fabric that would complement the black and pink to recover the seat with when Jack showed up with another needy piece of furniture and broke out his trusty sander.

For those of you who don't know Jack, he's like the Furniture Whisperer when it comes to painting and distressing; he can take the ugliest duckling and make it beautiful. So I said "While you're out here..." and brought him him my Problem Pet Bench which he started lovingly kissing with his sander. A smidge here, a smidge there, more little hints of pink started appearing. Still, it was not looking right to me and Queen of Impatience that I am, in a moment of madness I grabbed the sander from him. 10 seconds later I was past the point of no return and it was NOT GOOD.





I stood back, frowning, with my fist tucked under my chin like Tim Gunn from Project Runway, trying to find a nice way to say "This looks like s**t." Ever the optimist, Jack said "I don't know, it looks kind of like..." He struggled for words. "What, Jack, like someone tried to forcefeed a hyena Pepto Bismol and things ended badly???" Ummm... yeah. SIGH. Off to find some black paint.

Here Comes the Sideboard...

All Dressed in White... Dum Dum da Dum da da Dum da da DUM DUM DUM...

Sadly, I have no picture of this awesome antique white sideboard I saw yesterday at My Husband's Cousin's Wedding; If I did it would be a REALLY GOOD Blog. But I thought you guys would get a kick out of the fact that I the Mad Antiquer was at this wedding, everyone was gathered around watching the bride and groom have their first dance, and then the bride dancing with her dad, which ALWAYS brings a tear to my eye even if I don't know the couple or dad in question... when Kenny turned to me with a smile. I know he was thinking 'She's so cute, she always cries at weddings, even on TV..." but I made the mistake of whispering "LOOK at that SIDEBOARD!" Credit to my Husband, he did say "You're so cute." Then he turned back to watch the real festivities. My sister-in-law was like "What's the Matter?" because I was all teary-eyed and he said "Nothing; She's just in love with that sideboard." Meanwhile I was trying to justify myself. "Really! That is Real-Deal old Antiqued White, not something made to look old. I would LOVE to have that for sale at the shop!" SIGH. I am such a loser. I kept meaning to go and snap a picture of it but I forgot until we were leaving. "Go Ahead!" said Kenny, my ever-enabling spouse but I felt like kind of a jerk. "Excuse me, bride on the dance floor, can you step aside so I can get a shot of that sideboard?" Um, yeah. even I wouldn't do THAT!

A Slippery Slope

That being the scary stairs that lead down to the cellar in my 175 year old home:


Which, more often than not, I blindly descend carrying a mountain of laundry when what to my wondering feet should appear but...


My Brother-in-Law visited last week and got a special kick out of seeing THIS sign on the door to the cellar:


I felt a little bad because I know Kenny tries to be a role model to his younger brothers so I thought I had removed all evidence that he can be kind of an idiot. (There WAS a companion sign on the dishwasher that read "Insert Dirty Dishes Here, but luckily I got to that in time.)

Then I got to thinking, maybe there is a market for this kind of thing. Does anyone else need signs like this? I could totally make more and sell them at Salvage Chic. Hand-written, of course, so they'd be somewhat of a collectible. I could even tea-dye the paper, so it looks nice and vintage in your Country Primitive home. Hell, someone donate me a new Sharpie and I'll even make you one for free.