Read It and Weep

Read it and weep. That’s what my shrink would do if I had a shrink.

Here’s why I almost lost my mind last week. (Click on the picture to see the ridiculous list of the things I did just from Wednesday through Friday.)

I carried the heavy leaf of an old dining room table to the professional furniture refinisher because oops! We had forgotten all about it when we brought him the whole big table itself. He practically wept to see it; matching the other finish will be that big a challenge for him.

Then I decided on the spur of the moment to refinish five little occasional tables, right in my kitchen, and then on the spur of the spur I threw in a sixth, the top of the built-in desk right there by the fridge which somebody must have spilled battery acid on at some point because one whole corner of it was all blistery and scrofulous.

I did this because I thought I could. (It’s one of the most annoying things about us Baby Boomers, the way we think we can do anything.)

The tables look pretty good though I have to say and really any job is doable if you break it down: One day, strip the piece, using the thick chemical gel that will remove your very skin if it comes in contact with it   The next day, sand it, wipe it with mineral spirits, go away until the air quiets then come back and stain it. (I used Minwax’s Dark Walnut this time.) Day after that, stain again. Day after that, time for the coat of Minwax’s satin polyurethane. Apply it holding your breath, praying you don’t screw it up. Then leave the room immediately so as not to roil the air and get dust motes stuck in the finish. Next day, sand lightly, wipe down, wait, coat again, run from room.  It’s fun, almost, and it only takes about a week to get to the end.

During this week though I also redecorated our late Uncle Ed’s apartment to make it more appealing to potential buyers (see yesterday’s post),  put the finishing touches on a newsletter that took me a solid month to gather then news for, then write and then format (see tomorrow’s post) and finally buy a car (see this coming  Thursday’s post.)

Somewhere during this same week just past I had an email from a faithful reader named Mary who has come to be very dear to me.   It is OK to simplify your life,” it said. “From your daily journal” – by which she means this blog – “it is obvious that you do way too much for everyone.   I also think sadness about losing Uncle Ed may have raised its ugly head.  Just keep taking deep breaths.   You do not have to prove anything to anyone.”

Is that what’s going on with me? AM I trying to prove something to someone? Food for thought, food for thought …. Looks like Mary has given me my homework for this new week.