The Table.

Hold on to your seats! This is a story about triumph, completing the ol' 180 degree turn, and arising out of the rubble. Imagine yourself feeling hopeless....all is lost. You need to be saved. You are beaten down and feeling like life is worthless. You are practically trash waiting to be picked up and thrown into a pile of life's sad, worn down rejections. Now...if you can even come close to imagining this dark place with no hope for light at the end of the tunnel...then you can get a mere glimpse of how it felt.

Meet.....

The Table.

Yes, friends...I, Emily Wood, went dumpster diving. Actually, it wasn't really dumpster diving per se....it was more trash tip-toeing, pile picking, or even better -- curb consigning. And you should have seen me doing it. You probably would have laughed. Here's the dramatic low-down.

I have been on the hunt for a new table/desk for my new little impromptu craft area that is nestled cozily in our guest bedroom. Up until the birth of my new table, I have had a huge, heavy, monster of a table. You know, the ones that have the fold down legs. You usually see them displaying garage sale items on someone's driveway. Well, I made it work. I covered it with fabric and dressed it up a bit. Blah blah blah. It was still ugly. But, getting a new table for that space was on our priority list...okay, my priority list...right above organizing the garage, which falls at #216. It just wasn't something that was going to happen very soon. So, one early evening, it was a Tuesday to be exact. The sun was setting into a horizon that was filled with shades of lavender and mauve, the temperature sat at a pleasant 62 degrees (I don't know, I just made that up), and the house was filled with a screaming hungry 18 month old sassy pants -- that's why I decided to take her out in her stroller for a walk. And it was the walk that changed the fate of The Table. I'm walking, walking, walking, and as I near the end of the street, there is was. It was lifeless and hidden among the rest of the trash. It was one of those moments when you see someone you think you might know and you want to stare until you can figure it out but you don't want to get caught staring. Yeah. I stared at that table and looked away. Stared, looked away. I didn't want anyone to see that I was checking out this person's pile of rubbish. So, I did a U-ey and checked it out again. It was covered in dust, stains, it was missing a leg...it was gonna to be a project. I didn't get a close look at it but I saw enough that I walked a little bit faster to get home so I could tell Keith about my life changing event.


Long story longer. I slept on it. I would wake up frequently in a panicked night sweat imagining my table out in the cold night air. It was all alone. Should I go get it now? It's 2am..hm....but please, I didn't want to seem obsessive! So I laid back down and continued to imagine what things would be like with The Table in my life.

The next morning, Ava and I went on another leisurely walk. I suddenly felt the urge to get in touch with nature, visit with the birds, soak in the early morning sun if you will. And I managed to find myself back in front of the same pile of trash. I don't know how I got there, seriously. I just followed Ava as she rode in the stroller. The table was still there. It was like it had been untouched. It had made it though the night only looked upon by the angels. But, ladies and gentlemen, I had no time to contemplate any further. Not only could I hear the faint rumble of our garbage truck friends, I saw in the distance a white pick up truck coming in my direction. I turned away pretending to enjoy the breeze on my face but it didn't help the truck disappear. He pulled up right behind me! If I were Hercules-woman, I would have thrown The Table over my shoulder and ran. But I couldn't. Somehow, I had to get back to my car and back down the the curb before my white pickup corner consigner stole my treasure. I had no time to think. I turned that stroller around and ran like my pants were on fire. I ran in my flip flops with a jogging stroller as Ava screamed out "yee-haw!" It was a sight. I threw Ava in the carseat (that is an exaggeration, people), started the car, and drove without looking back. I may have peeled out in the middle of the street, I don't know. Maybe there are tire marks. I popped the back gate up on my SUV, ran over to the table, picked it up, and slid it in. This all happened in about 45 seconds. That man in the white pickup didn't know what hit him! That was because he was also not in his truck. I think he lived next door. But that is beside the point now! He could have been telling all of his friends about this awesome table on his next door neighbor's curb.

So, as I am driving 2.7 mph down the street with a highly confused toddler, I see it....was I dreaming? In another person's trash pile, probably 6 more houses down the street was the FOURTH LEG. The FOURTH LEG TO MY TABLE. The choirs were singing, I'm telling you. So, I pull up my driveway, turn off the car, and ran like the fire in my pants was still raging. I grabbed the leg and made it back to base. I pulled the table out and put it in the garage where I could protect it from the rummaging world. And then I logged in all of my running time on our Wii Fit so I wouldn't get in trouble for missing a day to re-construct my table. Now, take a breath. And if you have a Wii Fit, you can now log in your time for reading this blog. Good work!


So...it is done. Thanks to my wonderful hubby, a few sheets of sand paper, a couple of blocks of wood, 2 coats of paint that nearly stained my hands black, and a layer of clear coat glaze, I have me a dandy craft table. You wanna know what it cost me? $3.50. The cost of my clear coat that was on clearance. Yeah. I'm psyched.

The moral of the story? Don't wear flip flops while your running with a 23lb. toddler. AND, don't ever pass up an opportunity like this one! You'll wish you hadn't!

Now...I wish I was crafty, then I could actually use this table. KIDDING! I have already hot glued egg shakers on this thing! And it didn't collapse. Now that's impressive.

Thanks for reading. Now go to your own local curb consignment sale. It may even be right next door.