I just ran across this in one of my other online lives (Yes, I have several, and we're all very happy in our different online worlds, thank'ee. We're never short for conversation amongst ourselves, and we're even quite entertaining sometimes.)
(But I digress.) Now I believe one is probably supposed to think how picturesque (or picture-skew as we have it here at Alf Towers), look at the light, pretty flowers, and so forth. Y'know, the whole atmospheric photograph shebang.
I took one look and thought:
No wonder the top of that table is warped to b*gg*ry if some barsteward puts damn flowers in water all over the top of it. Furniture killer. Die. Die. Die.
Ha-hum.
So, yeah, I may have had that reaction before. Pretty much any time I see my mother going anywhere near any woodwork with a watering can in her hand, akshully. She likes plants; I like wood without water marks. It's a domestic situation made in hell, if we're honest. But I staple my tongue to the floor to avoid saying anything about it, and she usually remembers to take a cloth to wipe up any spills immediately, so we muddle along without excessive bloodshed.
Anyway, looking beyond my initial reaction, this is evidently fairly "country" in style. Overlaid front rail; don't think I've seen that before. T&G top - or is that actually a loose tongue? Pegged tenons though, which is probably all that's keeping the whole thing from falling apart. So, no, not Chippendale, but that's a useful little table. C'mon, non-woodworking world. Have a heart. Put a coaster under those damn flowers, okay?
Shouldn't you tell this the other world? We know.
ReplyDeleteNice picture!
Cheers Pedder
Lashings of linseed oil is the answer to everything.
ReplyDeleteHere here and there there too.
ReplyDeleteOh, and while we're about it, please - no silicon infused polish either.
Stephen Ruddock
New Zealand
Mmm, i think the milkman should
ReplyDeletetake his bottles back. That'd sort
the booger out.
Hi Alf-
ReplyDeleteIt Is a nice picture. But, that's what they used to make Doilies for... endlessly, doilies, doilies, doilies. I live with my mother, too, who is 91. Your blog made me smile.