The Lowe's man scowled at me, brought out his crazy eyes, and scratched his head when I told him I needed paint for the table. He shouldn't have asked. For some reason man deems it necessary to fake cardiac arrest at the very thought of painting wood. Why is that? My Dad was the same way (although not so dramatic). I love natural and stained woods too, but this table was suffering from holes . . . In. The. Surface.
We corrected the holes with wood fill and slathered on some paint. I think it's going to be beautiful in the end. Maybe a little more cottage-like than we might have liked, but full of charm nonetheless.
Isaac (age 9) got to take a comics class our town was offering this summer. We have a lot of talented artists in town and this teacher was no exception. She's worked with children in the past and does a really fantastic job at it. We even got her card so in case she offers more classes, we'll be able to attend.
So . . . Our dining table is in the garage getting a face lift. It's the table that my Dad and my Love built together shortly after we wed. It has seen some wear and tear (to the point where there are actual HOLES in the wood), but I can't replace it. It must get fixed. In the mean time, our little people's table will fill it's spot.
While we are in the process of fixing, it's important to clean and paint and decorate.
And I am embroidering some matching towels for the new grayish/blue area.
Every year we venture out to Nowhere, Idaho for a weekend holiday. My kids love it and say things like suburb-raised kids tend to say (I think?). Things like, "I smell nature!" and "I wonder if we'll see any macaws out here." We don't live near trees, unless you count the apple and cherry orchards. The smell of the pines and the peaceful lakes are a pleasure to the senses. It's quite opposite to our dry, but oddly beautiful, open landscape. Tumbleweeds anyone?
My Peace Officer relaxes out in the boonies. Nature is his first love. He golfs, swims like a fish, takes us fishing, and tries his best to coax us into hiking the trails. It's sweet. It's really sweet. He's so sweet.
I am not a nature girl. Just as the sight of the tree laden mountains take my breath away, so does the size of the Idaho ants. I sit on the balcony of our condo trying to find a balance in the solace as I embroider my nine year old's drawings onto tea towels and desperately search for cell service. The bugs keep flying into my hair. Nature.
My kids dress in their swimsuits before breakfast and wait impatiently for Bill to make eggs and bacon and for me to tidy up. They swim the day away.
Every year we venture here and every year we make beautiful memories.