Did an Ikea trip and finally found all of those things that I never knew I needed. Special white jars with wooden lids for teabags and everything? Definitely. Approximately sixty dollars on cacti alone? Certainly. Blissful new sheepskin that is ostensibly for decoration but really a replacement for the one that I refused to part with and that remained with me from cot to first apartment? Sure. Whatever, the house is looking excellent.
This new quilt cover changed the entire bedroom. The previous black and grey geometric cover was very dark and really drew the eye. New black and white quilt cover is wonderful. The crystals and that cacti moved out into the living room before long.
Hello, friends.
Oh, what? That? That solid maple midcentury extendable table, you mean? Right. That one that I found on the side of the road? Just checking. It weighs a ton, it's in almost perfect original condition (save a few superficial scratches on one edge and a terrible attempt by a previous owner to add a black ombré detail to the edge. Why did you do that?). I was driving past on my way to an op shop when I spotted my new table friend upended on the footpath. My neighbourhood has been doing the footpath collections lately. After screeching to a halt and determining that yes, it is solid wood and yes, it is in almost perfect original condition I waited around for almost twenty minutes to see if anyone was coming back to claim it. Nope. Nothing. It was mine. Thanks to the toolbox in my car, the legs came off and fit in the car. The top didn't. Heartbroken wasn't even the word.
Then the guy in the ute pulled up. After making polite conversation (he was doing a talk at the church building next door) he offered to drive the table top to my house. And he did, as soon as he was done with his talk. Stranger danger? What? I wanted that table. I got that table. And we all lived happily ever after and only complained about American thrifters always finding incredible things very quietly every few days.
Bliss.
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