Red Oak Staight-back Dining Room Chairs

Here's a twin straight-back combination (two chairs--just one shown here). There's nothing really remarkable about these two, but they can hardly be bettered for their service ability. What these "twins" may lack in beauty they provide in practical service. Originally they were a step more expensive than the traditional solid wooden seat. Alternatively they offered a leather insert seat incorporating a thin layer of cotton batting and an early generation of "Masonite"-type material (there's some fun history there!) that served as a foundation.

These 1930's vintage chairs were finished with a traditional lacquer over a brown walnut stain. The oak has dried and become brittle and the lacquer finish has long since "died." As you can see, the seats have dried out and torn too; their foundations have failed. (One shouldn't use a chair like this as a step stool--but hey, life happens.) Nevertheless, there's a lot of promise here; not a thing that a little Wood Talkin won't fix when it's followed by some "goin home" TLC.

We'll hand-strip the chairs and carefully re-stain them. In the stripping process any loose joints will be separated and re-glued. The new leather seats' design will be reconfigured to allow introduction of dense foam rubber centers supported with contemporary Masonite. (They'll be a lot more comfortable to the human posterior than their 1st generation prototype!) And if it happens that there are other members to this obvious duo...they're gonna be really jealous of their handsome brothers.

So, until next time, "Happy New Year!"...and...that's Wood Talkin.

Genetic Anomalies

This old rocking chair really does have some stories to tell. Whether the tale is completely told, and whether it's complete and coherent at this point...well, you be the judge. The pictures probably say it all.

In the creation of a Grande Damme like this, especially when one can move back beyond the era of super duper mass production as we know it today, you find telltale little details. Really, these are about the craftsman or the processes he used to produce the finished product.

This elegant Old Lady displays some fun distinguishing anomalies. In the pictures at the top, for example, you see two decorative spindles. The bottom spindle, found on one side of the rocker frame, shows itself as fully rounded, "plump." The other spindle, found on the opposite side of the rocker frame, shows a a flat spot where the craftsman's turning effort ran out of material before the spindle was fully formed on the lathe. He probably had the stock "chucked" into the lathe in somewhat of an eccentric manner. Certainly, the piece was used anyway! The outcome: a fun and identifying feature in the creation of this Grande Damme. She's "herself" and there's probably not another Lady quite like her.

Another fun example can be seen, too. It's found in the crevasse where the decorative top of the chair fits snugly into the turned (left) "rail" to support the upright back of the chair. It hides there, but once you see it it's obvious forevermore. The craftsman's ban saw took very hungry little "nibble" before he had it perfectly aligned for his cut. Oopsie...a fun identifying characteristic.

"What did you say?" (She's talking to me, quite bashfully.) "Oh, but they're my beauty marks...(she says, and she agrees)...and...does the whole world have to know?!" We love her; she feels it. Distinguishing characteristics that make this Grande Damme herself...special!

So until next time it's...Wood Talkin.

Back to Glory

Here's a solid oak rocking chair with some traditional old world styling. It's simple and at the same time complex; unpretentious, but elegant. How do we NOT fall in love?...I don't know a way.

My customer reports that it's an heirloom kept in the family cabin, a private hideaway up in the mountains above Bailey, CO. Of course it is also an antique. Nothing is broken, it's completely intact, albeit there are loose joints here and there. (But we all get "loose joints" as the years go bye!) Alas, a leather seat deteriorated some time ago--the initial reason it came to the shop.

It appears to have been varnished, at least once, over what was probably a fine oiled and waxed surface...perhaps Linseed? The varnish unevenly cured and darkened, probably applied with an efficient brush that was over-sized for the chair's delicate spindles and lines.

The goal with this beauty: respect it's maturity and show off it off! Return it to that private mountain hideaway? We'll see if that happens. "She" deserves a place "on stage" where passers bye can ogle and say, "Now there's a beautiful rocking chair!"

There will be more to say as we follow this wonderful old rocker through its brief transition back to glory. So stay tuned for some fun updates and of course that conversation we know affectionately as, Wood Talkin!

A Happy Reunion

It's always a surprise to me
how these "inanimate pieces of furniture" become homesick in the same way people do. No kidding, these pieces predictably start whining about their need to go home. Just like people it appears these pieces miss the familiar sounds, smells, surroundings, and of course the comings and goings of special people, all of which make their existence fun and exciting--worth while. After all, I guess, how is a self-respecting heirloom hutch to "think" of itself if there's nobody around who remembers and can tell it's story? (Glance back at the Oct 21st post to see what this top was like before!)

So, it was time to go home. This honey of a Cherry Hutch was really ready to get back to the music studio. Hence, these parting shots--these "hugs and kisses in goodbye fashion"--testify to a handsome face lift (a phrase oh so respectfully submitted) describing the purpose and intent of the hutch's brief vacation at the Wood Talkin "boutique." Bon Vie!

Cherry Hutch: It's A Real Honey

This beautiful little Cherry Hutch appears to have been part of a school or other institutional-type collection. It's been a family member for at least the past two generations. So, right now it belongs to a Denver area musician and music teacher. It sets proudly in her studio, a fine piece probably manufactured as part of a set in the early 1900's. Any other pieces to the set are gone, so it stands alone "taking notes" (i.e., keeping track of sheet music) in her studio.

Ugh. At some point along its life path it held a potted plant on its top. As often happens this was something of a convenient place for a plant, but it was a threatening destination for the occasional over- watering events that predictably occur to impact the top. Consequently, it had become badly water stained and the wood was split and crazed.

So with a piece like this the challenge becomes that of retaining the integrity of as much of the original finish as possible. In general, its surfaces, throughout, remain amazingly clear, clean, and un-crazed. The lacquer is old and it appears more "tired (dead)" in some areas (e.g., the top) than in others (e.g., the inside of the door). But overall, once we address issues in the top, we'll work to support the original finish. So, we'll not disturb it's look and feel any more than we need to revitalize it around the sides (but not inside).

The "Old German Steamer Trunk"...an Update

This old trunk really generated some attention around here. Not because of some unique or particular beauty...at least not to the eye...but because of its story and the secrets it still keeps. From an art/craftsman's perspective the old trunk is a "treasure chest." Everything about it is hand made. From its hand-crafted dowels and dove joints, then its nails, hinges, and metal straps--all hammered out on an anvil--, to its locking mechanism and skeleton keys. This was really fun stuff!

Everything we did with the trunk demanded respect for the story it tells and for the secrets it continues to keep. We were glad to offer it...and delighted to have some part, albeit a very small, contributing to the idea that other people will enjoy it too.

A Quick Postscript re., "Oopsey!"

Ugh. Our customer wasn't 100% on this one. There was question about the color match and the "smoothness" of the drawer front's finish. It happens. When customer satisfaction is in question our goal is to make it right...consistent with industry standards. In this case the choice of another finish material and an adjustment to the color are appropriate responses. As a general rule maintaining a collaborative relationship is the key to mutual satisfaction.

"Oopsey!"... It's one of the reasons I can serve you.

Here are three drawers, all part of a matched set complimenting a baby's attractive changing table. I suggest they are all white, but alas, we all know white is rarely just "white." It's a secret blend of reds, or blues, or yellows.

As a Re-finisher I have not so secretly wondered if the formula for "White" has been (but other colors often suffer the same manipulation) concocted to make life more fun for me and others, like me, who just want to serve customers successfully. (I've learned to place such emotionally muscular exercises in the category of character development.)

The story behind this: The changing table enclosing these drawers was newly purchased and happily on its way home when, "Oopsie daisies," they spilled out and onto the ground. The smallest one took the worst of the insult. It landed smack on its decorative corner crushing it quite severely. No it was not a pretty site. The others sustained comparatively superficial damages with scrapes and chips here and there. And that's where the issue of "white" comes into the story.

Matching colors is always something of an adventure--and it's always doable. This "white" was no exception. So wow, look at them now! (OK, the picture isn't the best and really doesn't do the situation justice.) The picture does offer the general idea. They will all soon be reunited with the dresser and everyone, including the much anticipated baby, will be beneficiaries; a little story albeit a contributing preface in an obviously longer and more novel adventure....serendipitously interrupted in the tradition of "Wood Talkin."

Mystery In an Old German Steamer Trunk

As trunks go, this one is not pretty or handsome in traditional terms. However, what it lacks in the way it looks is more than made up in its mystery and intrigue.

It's a simple pine box. The two metal straps across the top and bottom are hand made...flattened and elongated patiently by a Black Smith's hammer strokes. The hinges are respectively distinct, non-transferable. All the nails are hand made...forged, square shanks with hammered heads. The lock mechanism (of the Skeleton Key variety), was probably originally fashioned in a lock smith's shop. My guess is that it was likely to have been purchased for this application and then placed and secured in the trunk by its creator.

The box's corners are secured with hand cut dove tail joints (see the picture!). The boards across the top and on the sides are held in place with hand made dowels. It has no internal shelves or evidence of there every being any...just a big pine box...and there is nothing inside or on the walls of the box to suggest otherwise. However, there are words scrolled, again in cursive, across a portion of the front inside panel (near the floor) of the box--again in German.

There are three well-faded packing labels on the sides of the trunk (one shown). They are unmistakably German in origin--Hamburg was either a destination or a point of departure on at least one trip. These tell-tale hints suggest the trunk traveled in the belly of a ocean going steamship--a "Steamer Trunk"--and I'm going to guess there were some associated railway adventures. At some point in the past the entire box, including all metal pieces and the hinges, was coated with a rust (i.e., cedar) toned stain. I'm guessing it was a pigmented shellac-type sealer.

Finally, scrolled in cursive across the top of the lid, apparently also in German, you can see as it were a possible title or statement of some kind (Can you read it?). Perhaps this is a reference to the owner, or to the nature of the box and its contents.

I originally assumed this trunk was a vintage post 1900. Given all the hand work we see, I'm going to guess we're peering into the mid-to late 1800's. The challenge for me in doing this kind of work with precious pieces like this old trunk is that of not doing too much to it! "Restoration" can mean many things to different people. In this instance the goal is that of keeping it vintage--authenticity reigns the day.

Wow, these are the joys when we get to hear "Wood Talkin."

They say they want to go home!

This furniture manufactured by Henredon in North Carolina is really attractive stuff. Much appreciation to their Customer Service people for the help they were able to offer. So, two days in the application of the finish coats (i.e., repeated spraying, curing and sanding) we're ready for the last step--buffing them out. Does anything really feel better than success?!

Oops. Three Steps Forward--Two Steps Back

"The refinishing process is rarely fail-safe." That's a little mantra I try to keep in mind...all the time. But it still surprises and disappoints me when what I think is a simple "sure thing" procedure or process goes amok. There are a wide variety of variables to influence the refinishing process including, for example, materials' compatibility, contaminants, and timing. Whatever the case if or when it happens it's always key to figure out what went wrong, fix it, and move forward.

Interesting developments: The initial coats of finish to the chest and the side table "blew-up. So, now we're in the midst of the "what went wrong" investigative process. Getting "Wood Talkin" can happen in surprising ways. Most of the time it's the wood itself, but other times, as in this situation, it may be information or insight born external to the the woodworking/refinishing process. In this instance an inquiry to Henredon Mfg in Morganton, NC, offered some helpful insight.

Many of the formulas and procedures used by furniture manufactures are proprietary. (Then an experimental effort to "detect" how they did it ensues.) I expected no less from the Henredon people...and I was right. The Henredon people were very nice, but sadly I learned that Henredon's finishing division was dissolved in 2007! The shop people I would have liked to discuss my situation with are no longer available. Ugh.

But this inquiry was not a lost effort, so this is only a temporary set-back. The customer service staff were able to offer me some helpful information for which I am grateful. I believe what they provided is sending me in the right direction for what we want to accomplish here. OK. Nevertheless, what they told me is certainly a sad commentary on the general state of our nation's economic situation--something we all feel in various ways.

So, "back to the drawing board" in this case means that we back-up and start the refinishing effort with these two pieces again.

A Fun Before-n-(almost) After

This wonderful Oak Side Table has the distinctive one-of-a-kind look to it. As you see it here it has been separated from a marvelous set of twisted wrought iron legs (not shown). The legs accent the table's "check me out" features. Arranged under the table, three at each front corner and with several more along the back below the frame, they are bent gracefully and twisted (axially) into the form of musical treble clefs (if I'm remembering it all correctly) . The customer requested the oak top be finished to match his Henredon Chest and other handsome Henredon pieces found in the home.

Late last week we sanded, filled, and glued down swollen grain in the top of this piece (Uh huh, some water damage...a previous owner). It cured throughout the day and was then sanded and stained to cure through the weekend. Also, the top of the Henredon Chest (also see previous blog entry) was skinned to eliminate those (aforementioned) rings. Some checks and crazing in the front, left, corner of the chest were also glued and pressed in preparation for sanding and refinishing. Then, similar to the side table, it was stained to cure.

Here's an interesting observation...

The edges of this custom irregularly shaped side table reveal more than an inch thickness of oak end grain. To the casual observer it appears the table is a substantial piece of Red Oak. A really nice touch! But upon closer inspection that handsome end grain (that graceful "curve" on each end) has only slightly more than 1/4" in thickness. Since, in general, wood tends to expand and contract more across the grain than with the grain, modest changes in humidity make this highly decorative end grain configuration both beautiful and a bit delicate. Some cracks were apparent, and were filled accordingly before the staining process. These are likely to reappear depending on the moisture the air.

Today both pieces received a glazing coat with distressing and some prep with steel. Also, they received a lot of doting attention and cured most of the afternoon. Aha, an initial late PM application of lacquer finish and they will be ready for some nib sanding and another finish coat tomorrow. It'll be followed by some hand rubbing and a lot more TLC. (See, no more rings!)

Pride of Ownership

It's a Henredon Three-Drawer Chest. This one is finished in what is traditionally characterized as a Limed Oak style. (There is quite a wide variety of shades and nuances in these "Limed Oaks.") This one had the misfortune to acquire some colored rings in its top surface (probably the base of a beverage glass), and it has a small but nasty chip in the veneer of a drawer front. Life seems to do that; everybody gets those bumps, bruises, and wrinkles sooner or later. Oh well, we can fill and match to remove the chip and resurface the top to eliminate those rings.

In a previous blog entry I explained a simple technique for removing similar rings from the top of a clear lacquer finish. It would be nice if we could employ that same technique here. If it were doable the piece could have been repaired in the home. When color is involved in the surface, as in this situation, it's generally a shop repair.

Presidential Heritage

This tired old gentleman has quite a history. It was originally made for and sat in the lobby of the old Portland Hotel in downtown Portland, Oregon. It was one of several to grace the lobby's marble floors. At that time it proudly wore gold, navy blue, white and red vertical stripes, and these were accented with big wide and shiny brass buttons which descended its arm fronts, then horizontally across just below the seat with its big feather-stuffed cushion. A Presidential look and feel!

It's been recovered once since leaving the hotel. The process you see taking place here is probably the third or fourth time. (One way you know is in counting all the upholstery tack holes that hide underneath all that fabric.) The last upholstery update was done in 1978, 32 years ago, so it's due.

An adventure awaits the reupholster who tackles an item like this. The upholstery's folds and crevices catch and conceal years of little treasures, mementos left by those who sat or curled-up between its strong upholstered arms. Wrappers from long ago savored candy bars, bobby pins--perhaps from a little girls hair--sewing whatnot from projects long completed, money never spent, evergreen sprigs and shards of an ornament sharing past Christmas joys, paper remnants of a message hastily written, and a handsome barrette from a then young woman's hair. There's even as spot where a craftsman's hastily scribbled notation still instructs from it otherwise hidden location. These are perhaps whispered sentiments of years gone bye, from a hesitant participant, postured for a discussion with anyone willing to engage such dialogue. Maybe there are some lessons to be learned by the present generation from an old, proud, and Presidential chair?

Love Seat to LOVE SEAT

It was just a little pew. It's made of Douglas Fir and was originally painted in gray and tan tones. It was actually one of those fabled "front row seats" in a 1900's vintage Baptist church on the West Coast. Its original space was shared in the company of a sanctuary full of longer pew "brothers and sisters." When the church was remodeled the majority of those "family" members became fuel for parishioner's fire places. But this one was small and comparatively portable, so it was happily carted away to become a storied piece in someone's home. After all, what's a self-respecting Baptist piece of furniture to do without a historical pedigree?

But I understand there's a little bit more to this story. Word has it that IF a young couple sat on this pew up front there in the church they were indeed up front, but they were also together all by themselves--sort of an unofficial "in the church" place for love birds to be all alone up front. It worked; it was a well-used church "Love Seat." So, when this little pew was eventually transported to someone's home it went from being an unofficial Love Seat to becoming the homeowner's official "LOVE SEAT." Kind of fun, huh. (The leather and padding has been graciously added!)

An 1880s Love Starved Beauty

This is a gracious Arts & Crafts Era Victorian Lady (Burled Walnut). She will get some special attention in the near future. Pieces like these are far more than heirlooms; they are genuine antiques. She has earned her keep many times over. Her very presence commands respect and all the admiring inquiries she so readily deserves. Like so many other crafted pieces from this era she justifies every once of TLC she can get.

Removing Moisture (or heat) "Rings" From A Lacquered Top

It's frustrating when you put a glass or coffee cup down on a finished surface and later you observe it left a cloudy circle in the finish. It's a cloudy unmistakable ring where the glass or cup of coffee sat on your shiny table top, side board, coffee table, etc. Ugh. Here's a "miraculous" little tip I learned years ago that can make these unwanted signatures go away.

Next time you are at WalMart, your pharmacy, or perhaps a Home Depot (or some similar place) ask for a little bottle containing Spirits of Camphor. (The Camphor is going to soften the lacquered surface of your furniture. The idea here is that you can release the trapped moisture in the lacquer by softening it just enough to allow the moisture to dissolve in the camphor, adhere to the cloth, and escape. You want to apply just enough Camphor to soften the surface--but not so much that you remove it.) So, take your little acquisition home and patiently perform the following little exercise.

1. Get a small piece of cotton cloth. A little piece cut from, for example, an old undershirt will work just fine. You want just enough cloth so you can hold it in your hand and fold it twice--two thicknesses of the cloth--around and between your index and third finger.
2. Standing over the ring you want to remove, pretend your index finger, with the little cloth you have wrapped around it, is a little biplane with pontoons for water landings. The cloth is it's landing gear (the pontoons). Make a practice pass over the table and the ring with your covered finger--do this as if you're a pilot inspecting an anticipated landing site, the ring, in preparation for your next fly-over. You're going to land on one edge of that ring, slide along its curvature for a little distance, and then lift from it again.
   
3. With your next "air approach" drop down so you finger (pontoon) touches on the curvature of the ring. Slide across the ring as far as you can, staying on the ring's curvature with your cloth "pontoon," then quickly lift again from the ring...a probably short but smooth "touch and glide distance..." and then back up (maybe an inch or two slide depending on the size of your ring). Try this several times until you've got a feel for it--a smooth "in-down-slide across- then up and away" movement. Practice it several times.
4. Now when you think you've got the moves, take the lid from your Spirits of Camphor and wet the "pontoon" of your little make believe biplane. The cloth should be wet enough--but not dripping--so you can make a clean damp sweep across the ring's edge. Do this repeatedly landing on one part of the ring, applying just a little pressure, and then back up (8-10 slides without re-wetting). Do this rapidly and repeatedly watching as the ring begins to fade. Be patient and methodical. Continue landing, sliding, and up until that part of the ring completely disappears.
5. Continue this effort gradually moving around the ring until it's all GONE.

What should you expect? Where you removed the ring may take a slightly flatter sheen than the surrounding area. That's not unusual, especially in an older lacquered surface. But that shiny patina is generally a lot less noticeable than the ring you just removed. In newer surfaces, and when the Camphor has completely evaporated, you can often briskly buff the sheen back up with a soft cotton cloth.

Anyway, this little experience is fun...and just a little surprising.

Ready to Be ReUnited

Not a lot to do today. Given Left's impatience to be reunited with Right...there's no loafing goin on in this shop! Clean-up, mostly clean-up has been the name of today's tune. For example, removing a little latex rubber here and there from Left's light, or thickening the poly coat where the weather is most likely to assault the door most fiercely. Now Left can growl (in French of course) right back at it!

Parlez vous Francais? That's it.

Excitement... French Door Style

"That little teeny weeny piece of glass is ready!" were the words that ignited the afternoon. From that point on you were in a friendly dither. Was that French you were prattling? I suspect what I heard translated into something like, "Bless my mullions and styles, it's a great March day for Frenchman." And of course you were right. We soon had the glass in hand prepped to place in the leaded frame. That wasn't a big deal, but cleaning the chase of gluey gunk from the mullion was a bit of a challenge.

But the work really started when we'd replaced the old glue with sealant of our own and set the leaded frame in it within the mullion. The next few hours were tricky. There's a designed relief that runs around the perimeter of the light frame. It permits the trim to slip beneath it. In that way the trim and mullion appear as one piece. So it's difficult to remove the trim initially, but triply challenging to replace it with the new glue line in place. Ugh. Patience and perseverance win the day, plus a healthy supply of super pressure, including some well placed percussive jabs with a mallet, and all without breaking the oak trim or any of the glass pieces cased in the leaded frame!

You laid there still throughout this ordeal. But when we were done you would have jumped into the air, if you had the legs. With the best red oak Frenchisms I believe I heard you say, "Yes, mere hours from seeing Right!" Your absolutely correct. Just a few tidying details.

Are you beautiful or what?

Yes, you've got it. Good looks, a commanding presence, and a "come here and touch me" patina. Today was a good day for you to get out in the sunshine and soak up a little of it's brilliance--and it gave me a chance to give you a good look.

The picture you posed for this morning doesn't do you justice. The camera snappin it (and the bloke capturing it) will never be mistaken for professionals. But their work does communicate to a watching world "it's a finished product." (Ya gotta dodge the shadow of those branches!)

So now you can travel home in style, be reunited with your pedestal base and your chairs, and they're all going to be ogling you. Yup, you and I know that's exactly what we set out to do.

Mission accomplished!
;

Right Is A Success But The Left is Left

Talkin, talkin, talkin. Ya, you've made it clear: Left hates to be separated from the Right. He's there--at Tim and Jenny's--awaiting Left's soon arrival. OK, Left, so calm down and don't get your lower hinge stuck in a jamb!

"So, what are we waiting for," you ask? OK. You probably weren't paying too much attention at the time--probably one of those sedation issues associated with surgery. Right. You probably had about the same challenges structurally as Right. Pullin you apart and finding as I did with Right that you were similarly dismembered discovered pretty much the same stuff. Your center mullion was split into two separate pieces and impregnated with gunky stuff and bad glue, too. A lot of careful cleaning and sanding and proper, careful aligning and gluing "put this Humpty Dumpty together again." The light frame (mullion) was then reunited with the door frame and the sanding of the larger door frame with the mullion in place finally could begin in earnest.

But there was a hitch. I missed telling ya in passing. Carefully pulling the light out of the mullion frame was a different story with you than with Right. I'm going to guess your leaded light was installed right after a mid-week lunch when the craftsman was half asleep. He probably used HALF the tube of latex rubber cement to glue the light in place in the mullion. Ugh. What a mess! And I'm supposed to carefully remove your light! Yup, thanks but no thanks. I worked sweating bullets trying to get your light out...carefully, oh so carefully. Round and round the perimeter. Tug a little here; cut a little there; tug a little more here. Then---SNAP! The unwanted happened. One of the cut-glass leaded-in panes had broken. I hate that!!! But then of course I know you do too.

Finally, with much more persuading the light came free, but the one broken lead glass pane was oh so painfully obvious. Off to the Glass Shop for measurements, estimates, and fabrication....and...and...waiting.

In the meantime the sanding is done. The gluing is done. The staining and matching is done. Oh, you handsome French guy you! Just like Right.

So we're waiting on the little teency piece of cut glass to fit back into your light. Then we can replace it in the mullion, frame it, and do the all the LAST MINUTE THINGS.

Soon I hope--and I know you do too.

Just around the bend...

OK. You're reminding me...as if I needed to be reminded...that your oak veneers, top and skirt, are laminated to a Masonite-type foundation. It's really not a big deal except for the fact that when the finish edge is removed in the stripping and/or sanding process any "looks like grain" goes bye-bye, too.

Looking across your "skinned" top are a lot of "feathers" in the wood grain. They're typically produced in a muscular sanding effort. The combination of feathers and foundation material make for some cooperative investments--by you and me. A little TLC in the final coat (a little creative tickling here and there) along with the buffing process usually does the trick...and walla!

Opening and shutting the table top is a pleasant surprise. My compliments! You've got a "top-O-the-line" mechanism that makes removing and inserting the leaf comparatively easy--you purr like a kitten. I'd like to see that design in every top I work on, certainly wishful thinking on my part...but I can dream a little.

The perimeter's edge is sealed and finished. It makes a visually comfortable transition from the top to the skirt both in form and color. That's a good thing given the near boo boo we experienced earlier in the staining process.

The top has a first coat of polyurethane. Those "feathers" have flattened, for the most part. If we work together we can smooth the bulk of the resistors with the top coat effort tomorrow. Tonight is about curing in a warm shop. We're rounding the bend toward completion.

Tim & Jenny's French Connection

Strong, tall, solid oak, and French. Right and Left Sentries, a team forbidding intruders and weather. But there you both stood in a cold garage with warped pride, tired and so weather weary.

I "heard" you start talking to me from the bed of my truck en route to the shop. "Are we done; is this the end," you asked. "No," I promised, "A new beginning." I can assume you heard me; you said nothing more until we arrived.

Tradition knows you guys work together--one door. But, yes, I separated you to different rooms for just this short time. Hey, stop complaining! It's alright, and you agreed; a temporary and purposeful inconvenience for you two, but all for the best of outcomes.

Right volunteered first. So there you lay heavy across those shop horses. Yes, no door has ever deserved the horizontal more. Tired but determined (and destined) to stand again proudly facing new challenges.

My initial effort focused on your center mullions. Wow, those beautiful lights! The leaded cut- glass you each share provokes, I'm sure, inspiration and conversation from anyone who approaches you. Yes, you deserve to do some boasting. But that glass panel once carefully removed provide opportunity for closer inspection of your handsome central frame....ahaa, badly broken into halves--separate pieces! An insult I'm sure.

But someone had made a feeble attempt to fill the widening crack provoked by weather's hot and cold, wet and then dry, over and over again. Gooey glue and filler of some kind placed in the crack preventing the realignment, as it were, of your soul. Good intentions here, for sure, but ugh....lots of gunk...and, I suspect, a blow to any self-respecting French guys!

Jim & Kathi's Pedestal Dining Table

We carried you into the shop last Saturday morning. I know you must have felt a little awkward in that moment...introductions and all that stuff. You had no legs; your pedestal got left behind with the chairs that grace your skirt! So it was your handsome round top, including your generous 24 inch leaf.

Yah, I understand. No self-respecting middle aged dining table want's to be out and about without make-up! That was hastily brought for you in a plastic bag. Jim explained how your finished surfaces had been skinned, your naked wood exposed, in preparation for an extensive facial. (Yes, I know it was a cold morning's drive to the shop...sorry about that; from a warm basement, a project shelved, hastily carried up and outside, but kindly transported here for completion.)

I concede; you weren't in your best form. But hey, don't be bashful! It's OK. FYI, last month we proudly and compassionately resurrected a vintage early 1900's rocking chair. It's handsome features had been repeatedly painted through many years before it fell into disuse. In fact it escaped a house fire once! Nevertheless, eventually pulled apart and stuffed into an apple box it waited 40 years! It suffered some indignities, too, but hubba, hubba, you should see it now. So take heart!

What's that you say? OK, you're right. We almost made a boo booh. That bag of cosmetic stain we carried in was way too dark for your delicate features. So although you're covered with tape and newsprint now (--you don't want that over spray where the sun's gonna shine! --) you're already fetching your share of compliments!

I know you've got a lot more to say, but let's save our shared experiences for next time.