As I was saying—-For the record, my husband is crazy. But it is the best kind of crazy you could ever hope for. At the moment, he is intent on saving us from being washed away in some very heavy rains. Noah doesn’t need to be called in for a consult by any means, but it is charming to see his sweet intensity to divert rain and gutter run-off as if Satan himself had come calling. It is late, dark and (obviously) raining. I will prep warm clothing, get dinner to the brink of serving, and ready a hardy hug. Tomorrow will hopefully be drier and his attentions will once again be directed to the true craft at which he excels: turning old salvaged discards into useful and beautiful treasures.
Or it could be a kitchen island, too. Frankly, we brought it up to my studio for the photo shoot, and I want to put it to work as a storage master. It is tempting me with its handiness.
We salvaged this antique oak bureau from the basement of a candy making workshop. Dave thought I was daft, but I think he figured we’d at least get some kindling out of it. Good guy that he is, he humored me as my vision for the piece evolved. He even did all the work. Stripping off the finish, we found the warm patinaed hues of solid oak. Pieces of drawers that were too far gone to be saved were used to create open shelves instead. Wine, baskets of kitchen tools, fabric could all be stored beautifully. In my intitail vision of this piece as a mobile bar cart, the top functional drawer would be used for the barware, but you could put a rolling pin it, too, if you wanted. Meauring 39″ w x 19″ deep x 36.5″ tall, it is sure to find the perfect spot in someone’s home. $475.
We love antiquing. I believe I’ve said that before. Combing through flea market stalls, Craigslist ads, and other local haunts always sucks us in. But it has come to the point that our vintage finds are requiring the same level of management as my stash. Gasp! So it has come to it. We’ve decided to start a Catch and Release program for those wonderful pieces that we just adore, but simply don’t have the right place for in our home. It is sort of like we are acknowledging that it is okay to be a foster home for antiques. Take it in, clean it up, nurture it, and send it back into the world to be enjoyed. Beats a stint in storage in our barn.