It flopped. Again. Now my poor, dismal stool is once again sitting in the corner of the dining room cowering in shame every time I glance it’s way. And the poor thing must think it is at fault for it’s sad, pitiful remainder of what used to be it’s former (if roughened up) glory. And yet, the hand of the master is to blame here. I turn away in shame myself every time I think of what I have done to that poor, innocent piece of furniture that happened to find a home at my house.
I may have lost the battle, again, but the war is still on! So first time I get a chance I am heading to Wal-Mart to get sanding paper and whatever-its-called for my palm sander (sanding paper, but for a palm sander. I am sure it has a name) and I am going to strip the whole thing completely naked (down to the original wood) and attack once more.But this time I am going to go about it a bit more carefully and choose colors I want (green! I love green!) and tackle it again with hope, a bit more experience and a lot more patience.
At this rate if it turns out I will never, ever ever get rid of that thing. It’s going to become a family heirloom and the story of “Poor Great-Great Grandma and the DIY Stool” will soon become legend to my descendants. Because as much as I am disliking the reminder of how I am not, in any shape or form, a great DIY-er, I am getting rather attached to that poor thing through the hours spent with it. And honestly I feel a bit sorry for it.
It has been a couple days since I have posted anything but I was given a pleasant reminder from a dear friend to keep at my writing so as comfy as I was snuggled up in my monster bed with a billion pillows and down comforter, I tripped (literally, and not the graceful kind) out of bed and sat myself down here to share with you all my trials and the burden I now carry of slowly painting the life out of a poor piece of furniture. Aren’t you glad?
And on another note before I sign off for the night, I now am a pet owner! Two lovely blonde Gerbils who have been dubbed Caesar and Brutus. And they are adorable. And cute. And I love them and can’t stop giggling and oohing and aahing over every whisker twitch and beady little blink. And the one year old? Completely bonkers over them. ,I don’t think he will ever do anything again besides watch them, giggle and poke his finger through the cage and shriek with pure joy when they tickle his finger with their whiskers. Best decision on a pet I think I have ever made.
from diy « WordPress.com Tag Feed http://ift.tt/15Paol1
from jammco.us and http://ift.tt/1COg4GQ
No comments:
Post a Comment