There are too many moments when I wish I were skilled in the area of being handy. As in, “I’ve found something partially broken, let me buy it and fix it, and it will look wonderful!” Or, “I really want this, but can’t quite find what I’m looking for or it’s not in my price range, so I’ll just build it myself!”
I think these things. They do not happen.
Such was the case with wanting a mid-century coffee table. I had visions of several different coffee tables, all familiar mid-century styles, but the one I just couldn’t get out of my head was one similar to the table pictured below.
I loved the shape, the legs, and the open middle for storing/displaying various things. It was my dream table! I found several DIY posts with a quick online search, and thought, “See, it’s not that hard.” However, since I am no carpenter, nor do I have tools to even attempt such a thing, and my Dad is 1600 miles away (the master builder/wood worker), the dream table was mostly to stay just that, a dream.
My search in antique stores found some lovely mid-century tables, none like my dream table though, and all out of my price range, or so I thought. Once I shook the stubbornness of “I must have that table,” I finally found one with which I really fell in love.
I even realized, after going through photos I take for the blog that I had taken a picture of it back in November. I had also been back to that same antique mall at least twice since I took that photo, and before I finally bought it on the third trip since. I had passed over it several times. I thought it was cool, but because it wasn’t the one, I didn’t give it much attention, and almost let it slip away.
Here it is, when I thought it was just a good photo op. As I said, this was in November. Cut to January and I was cleaning everything off that table, on the ground to check the underneath condition, and standing chin in hand contemplating if it would work, and if I really wanted it, as my living room coffee table.
I even left that particular antique mall to go to the others around. Orange has so many to die for antique malls I figured I had better browse around before I committed to the table. As I walked around the other shops, I started to get anxious, “What if it isn’t there when I get back?” “What if someone else finds it and knows what a find and steal it is?” I had a hard time concentrating on other items and enjoying my perusing, but as my sister says, “If it’s not there when you return for it, it wasn’t meant to be and another one will come along when it’s right.” So wise, sister, so wise.
After I had finished at all the places, I returned to the table. It was still there. My anxiety was for nothing, other than to let me know I really did want the table and had better not pass it by once more. After letting the man up front know I wanted the table, I also found out it was 20% off. Good timing, or what?
It doesn’t exactly match my end table, but it is so close it’s pretty incredible, and since they have the same laminate tops, you almost think they were bought together. The table does need a little TLC. It is a bit loose and wobbly on one leg and requires some wood glue, and the under bits need a bit of oiling, but I figure that has to be easier than building an entire table. I don’t need to be a carpenter for that, do I?
2 thoughts on “If I Were A Carpenter”
You know by now my theory has always been if you see it and want it…buy it…for it may not be there when you next visit…especially in your “line of work!” No, you don’t need to be a carpenter for that. It just needs that TLC as you note and you’re obviously the best person for that job. Reminds me of a table the grandparents had back in the day that, like most of the stuff in our family, didn’t get passed down but was donated away. It’s very cool. Great job!
It’s a bummer most was donated away, you could have had quite a collection of cool things it sounds like. I’m greatly enjoying the table, no regrets!
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