It has been a busy time since my last post! I have been very busy working towards turning my hobby into a small business a reality. I'm discovering something new and interesting EVERY SINGLE DAY and I am having so much fun in the process. I don't think I've used the right side of my brain so much in quite a long time. My creative juices are flowing - that's for sure!
I have been blessed over the past couple of months by meeting so many wonderful people who are willing (not just willing, but anxious) to share their knowledge, talents, abilities, advice, tools and supplies with me. You name it - my needs are being met by the most wonderful people. Believe me when I say I most certainly intend to pay it forward! I can't express my thanks to those people - and you know who you are - enough.
Some days go by so fast it feels like I'm riding a roller coaster! From time to time I glance at the clock while working and gasp at how may hours have ticked by. This is what happens if you are doing what you enjoy. Time passing happily by is a blessing. On the other hand, the slowest part of my day is when I'm patiently waiting...for...paint...to...DRRYYYYY. That's another thing I'm learning - patience. Can I get an amen? Goodness. Patience does not come easily to me.
There have been some near disasters small challenges along the way, too. Take for example the cantankerous Dixie dresser that refused to cooperate. I sanded, primed, and painted and every single time pink stain (the color of Pepto-Bismol) would creep through my lovely shade of buttery yellow. So again, here we go, sand, prime, and paint only to have Pepto-Bismol return with a vengeance. I don't know what chemical was in the stain furniture manufacturers from the 30's and 40's used, but I do know this - It won't be conquered without a fight. I declare myself the winner of this particular battle.
Once I won the battle and the little Dixie dresser waved her white flag of surrender my hubby and I loaded her and two other small pieces in the back of his truck to take over to the shop. That thing was roped in tight! Everything was hunky-dory and we were tooling right along when all of a sudden my hubs yells, "Look out your mirror.... oops there it goes....WE'RE LOSING IT!"
Well, the "oops there it goes" was referring to the blanket covering the dresser. It oh so gracefully flew up in the air causing the driver in the car behind us to play a symphony on his car horn. Not helpful, dude. "WE'RE LOSING IT" was shouted when the dresser tipped in the back of the truck and bumped into the metal foot of a table. We pulled off the road and set the dresser upright only to find a slight mark on a drawer that nearly caused me to cry. OK. Maybe I did cry just a little.
Well, we went back home and I was successful at repairing the Grand Canyon sized mark slight damage to the drawer. It added more character, I think. I also blessed THE HECK out of that stinking little dresser and performed an exorcism right there in my drive way. I kid you not. Farewell little dresser. I hope you find the perfect home because you may or may not be welcome back at mine!
Then, there was today. This is so pitiful I'm almost ashamed to put it in writing, but since we're all kindred spirits I'll do it. (Insert *sigh* here.) I took the small feet off of a table I was about to paint to the kitchen sink to wash them off a bit. Filthy, they were. When I started the process there were FOUR, count'em, four feet. Remember that number because it will come up again later in this confession.
Once they were clean I went happily out to my spacious studio (nah, just my garage) and painted, distressed, and waxed the cute little table. I noticed there were only THREE feet, but my brain must have been starved for oxygen or something because I ignored the count. I honestly recall thinking, "Isn't that strange?" to myself, but it simply did not register in my little pea brain that one of the feet was missing.
Flash forward - After working for awhile I got hungry so I went back to the kitchen to get a bite to eat. I rinsed my dishes and then I casually cleaned the sink, put the rinsed plate and glass in the dishwasher, and turned on the garbage disposal. Remember the number FOUR that I told you about? The very important number four? Hmmmm.
Well, the horrible noise that came out of that garbage disposal froze me in my tracks. The sink actually shook and not in a good way. It scared me to death so I quickly switched it off and reached down in the sink hole expecting to find a forgotten spoon, a sponge, an earring, or an I-don't know-what, but what I pulled out was the poor missing mutilated FOURTH foot to my cute little table. There. Are. No. Words. It is yet to be determined who will win this particular battle.
Blessings, Y'all and thanks for reading along!
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