I have a table. I am thankful for this table. It belonged to my husband's great, great grandmother. It was passed on down and around from all the members of my husband's family and has landed in our kitchen. Permanently.
I have lived with said table for almost 16 years. It is time to pass it on.
How can I say that, you might ask? How could I be eager to pass on such a beloved heirloom? Ahhh, but this seems to be the hot potato of tables, and everyone has been eager to pass it. Now it's my turn.
People, it is falling apart. The middle sags. The top is splintered--and not in a cute antique shop distressed kind of way. The legs are so short that you can't get your own legs under the table when you are sitting at it.
It is not comfy and it sits in the center of my life right, smack dab in the middle of my kitchen. I keep it covered to protect it's modesty at all times with a tablecloth. While I would like to replace this old mare, I do respect her and am happy to have made her acquaintance.
However, my husband loves this table. He has threatened to divorce me if it was to be, say, magically replaced one day without his knowledge. I am a very sentimental girl, but what used to be once just a discussion about this table has turned into much more.
The more I dig in, the more he digs in. We are both of the most stubborn stock, so now it's a battle of the wills.
It would make a great desk. A lovely occasional table. (I'm personally not allowed to move it to another location out of the kitchen). Any relatives reading? Need a table? I'm sure if I found it a good home...