The Table

This isn't some wise tale about a table nor is a witty blog post about....a table. It's just a table. Not just any table. It's a table with a story. Probably not a very interesting one to some people but nonetheless it is to me and might be to you.

I first found this table under my mother's house about 20 years ago when I was scrounging looking for things to put in my new apartment I had moved into.  This table was painted yellow and the paint was peeling off.  It was covered in empty plant pots, potting mix and gardening tools. I thought it had potential and Mum was willing to part with it.

I had it moved down to my apartment and proceeded to smother it in paint stripper, which didn't work too well, trying to remove years and years of different coloured paints. I borrowed a belt sander from work and it seemed to do the trick. A quick couple of coats of timber stain and the table was worthy of a place in my apartment.

It's not the nicest thing to look at, it's probably not worth any money but it's just followed me all over the country, wherever I've gone. Up until recently, it was our main dining table but I felt like a new (second hand) one which matched our decor better so this table went downstairs, again.

It's one of those pieces that you just can't get rid of. It's so versatile. It's served it's purpose but it's too valuable to part with just yet. What about all the memories?

Scratches from toy cars, knives, forks, scissors etc

My daughter's first attempt at painting her nails, aged 3

Wet paper stuck to it from many a glued project

It's served it's purpose well but it still has a way to go. I'll make room for it under our house and it will continue to be our homework, dressmaking, craft, gift wrapping, laundry folding, sorting, painting....table.

Do you have a piece of really functional furniture you don't have the room for but just can't part with?

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