A long time ago, in a country far away…. Canada, to be exact….. I took some tole painting classes. Like singing, I had little talent for tole painting, but a great deal of enthusiasm and even more, obsessive compulsive tendencies. Oh, once I got started, there wasn’t a paintable surface, paintbrush or paint that I didn’t just love, and NEED.
And with my love of books, the written word and anything that gives instructions (yes, I keep all instruction manuals and papers…. I even have instructions for clock radios that we owned in England!), up until a month ago, I had a massive collection of tole painting books.
True to my nature, I ended up with a lifetime of projects. As life goes, my style changed long before I got around to most of those projects. But even a third of the projects are a lot, especially when they’re packed in boxes stored in my closet.
I form quite strong attachments to anything I own; it’s hard for me to let anything go. You may someday see me on “Hoarders – Buried Alive”. My stuff will be neatly organized and coordinated and I don’t keep trash, can’t stand that… I am an organizational freak and hate trash sitting around. I guess you could say I major in emotional hoarding with a minor in organization and cleanliness.
Anyway, during my tole painting classes in Canada, this little table was one of the extra-curricular projects offered for sale. I loved the shape of the table and duly handed over my funds. I also bought the pattern for the lovely pastural scene that was to be painted on the table top; a pretty ambitious pattern it was.
I never did it. There was always something more important to do (cough lack of confidence cough) so it just never got done. It sat in plain bare wood glory for a couple of years. Then I decided to at least paint it so it could grace our living room. I decided on a Hunter Green since that was one of the accent colours in the room. My husband decided to surprise me and painted it for me. He did a beautiful job and how could you not love a man that would paint such a girly table without being asked! Only problem was, he painted it a bright grassy green. While I loved the man for doing it, and let me tell you, not only did he paint it, but he painted several coats of poly sealer on it too; acid wouldn’t have eaten through that protection; so while I was grateful and loved him for it, the color just never felt right.
Many years and moves later and even more life changes, and that cabinet made it’s most recent living as my nightstand. Again, cute as could be, but totally wrong in color and by now, totally wrong in style.
Still I love it….. and no matter it’s beginning, it is, in my heart, a symbol of a loving gesture made by a man who will ever be very dear to me.
It took a long time, but I finally decided that I could and should repaint it and it just may fit in somewhere in this house, not just exist but actually look like it belonged.
To cut this short, I gave it a primer coat and then a couple of coats of black semi-gloss, painted all the gold hinges and pins in the knob with a brushed nickel and VOILA…. she lives… and she is gorgeous. Magic!
I’ve decided she fits the little space just as you enter the master bath, perfectly. I haven’t table-scaped her yet, but I think she’s beautiful. I love her.
And repainting her, I have a new appreciation for the loving gesture that gave her the original green coat. It was a pain with all of those nooks and crannies, I dread to think of four coats of it.
Peter passed away almost four years ago. He lives on in millions of memories just like this one.