Tabled

So there I was, feeling so fabulous for having revamped and decluttered my living room.  I was downright smug.  Which (I should have known) would be a loud invitation for the Household Gods of Chaos to descend.  They Smite.  O, They Smite.

While I was on a swell yarn crawl with some new knitting pals, Lindsay dropped her cereal bowl.  Not a catastrophe, in and of itself.  But the landing of said bowl was not good.  The landing of said bowl happened to be the glass top of the living room coffee table. 

It is important to note that Lindsay was not hurt by the broken glass. 

I, however, am emotionally scarred.  The living room coffee table is my primary work surface, any time when I'm not at my desk using the computer.  And now that the table is topless, force of habit has me dropping things on the floor all day.  Even though I know there is no glass in there, I keep putting things down on top of the table where it used to be.  Stitch dictionary? Plop. lands on the floor.  WIP? Plop. Lands on the floor.  Stitch markers, needles, coffee cup?  Plop, Plop, Plop.  Apparently, I cannot learn that the table is topless.

 Note stitch dictionary on the floor: item #14 to drop through the missing top.

Note stitch dictionary on the floor: item #14 to drop through the missing top.

After the long weekend, I was able to get a quote for having new glass cut.  Not. Inexpensive.  And frankly, I decided, kinda dumb.  We have already demonstrated that as a family unit, we are not glass-tabletop compatible.  So I've elected to replace the tabletop with a new wood one.  And while I'm at it, to refinish the table legs.  Make lemonade, right?

All day yesterday I sanded off the old finish.  4 complete passes with sandpaper of increasing grit numbers yielded a farmer-style sunburn on my arms and neck (stay classy, girl!), full-body muscle strain, and a finally-stripped table base.  I managed to get on 2 coats of oxblood stain before the inevitable faceplant.  

Tabled 2.JPG

Today it's raining, so the varnish phase has been relocated to the kitchen island.  I haven't even started on the tabletop, because my saw is across town at Phillip's mom's house.  From whence I neglected to retrieve it after her flooring project.  Naturally.

Meanwhile, back in the living room, I am now trying to work with no table whatsoever.  Which sucks not a little. 

I'm soldiering on though, with every confidence that I will prevail.  These things are sent to try us.  Oh, and before I forget; here's a Helpful Knitting Hint:  If you are going to knit with silk yarn, and you have to spend the day with a belt-sander, Wear Gloves.  Gnarly skin surface + delicate yarn = gross knitting.  

Norm Abrams never has these problems.