...and My Parents Come Through

As I have mentioned before there are 3 of us that live in 855 square feet. We have been living on top of ur mess for years and it has only gotten worse. At this point we cannot afford to sell our home and move into a bigger one, so here we stay. I have spent countless hours downsizing and consolidating, yet there is still a lot of stuff in our home. My husband is a musician and I always laugh because he couldn’t play something small and easily portable like spoons, no he is a drummer. And he does not own just one kit but three, along with keyboards, guitars, and sound gear. We sold our upright piano after our son was born because there was just no longer any room for it. Let’s just say our basement is full. I will only venture to the pit if I have laundry to do.


Several weeks ago I had a fit; well it was really more than just a fit. I had a full-fledged temper tantrum after I could not find my sketchpad. I hate when I have an idea and cannot find anything to sketch on. Clif agreed that it was time to look for a solution. I have so many supplies that One day my mother-in-law recommended that I put everything in the closet of our son’s room. When I told her it was already full she would not believe me and went to look. Let’s just say that she was lucky that she was able to close the door and that she did not obtain a concussion from falling objects. If I had just one hobby the mess might be better, but I have several and I always have more than one project in the works, my kitchen table can contest to that.

We had been searching high and low for a piece of furniture to store some of my supplies in. I needed something that was sturdy, all important as I hate spending money on junk that falls apart within a year. I wanted something astatically pleasing to the eye and it had to fall in to a price range that didn’t throw my husband into sticker shock. Not always an easy task, he is cheaper than I am. After hitting second-hand shops, estate sales and perusing Craig’s List my parents came through. 40 years ago my dad bought this piece of furniture for 30 dollars. It was in bad shape when he brought it home, but my dad, the ever handy-man went to work on it. He refinished it. In the pictures you can see the dark wood, that is the original color and those decorative pieces are untouched. Behind the mirror my father found a 1910 newspaper and so we know that this dresser is at least 100 years old. This old dresser brings back a flood of memories. It was always in my parents’ bedroom and as a little girl I use to stand on the top and look in the mirror (what a vain child).

I have already filled every nook and cranny. In front of the mirror is the print I won from Marie Otero at Lost Aussie. I have gotten the mat and am still waiting to find and appropriate frame. The lily pad lamp was bought at a yard sale for a dollar. I have been looking for a glass shade that will not break the bank. The shade I wanted was $125; I think I will keep looking. The hand-blown hookah has been with me for years. I had my dad cut the bowl off the top. It was to be a small table, but my son cannot keep his hands off of it. So I put it up for safe keeping.

I am very happy that my parents have decided to let me become the caretaker of such a piece and look forward to having many years of memories with it in our home. Now I can get back to work.