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[EarthNSky <erthnsky AT bellsouth.net>]

When I started school, in 1966, my mother bought me a maple desk built
for a child.  It had 3 drawers on the left side and a 4th drawer under
the writing surface.  The right side of the desk was supported by 2
spindle type legs.  I used this desk throughout my youth.  I learned to
write on it.  I learned to draw on the desk.  I kinda carved my name
with a pencil on the top. <g>  Later, I learned to type at that desk and
later still, I looked through my microscope there and explored the world
from that desk.  When I got married, I got the desk from mother just to
have some real wood furniture.  For over 20 years now, I have used the
desk as a place to save receipts and as a filing cabinet.  It was too
small to sit at and work, now that I am an adult, but there were times
when I would sit a kid there to do homework.    It was well made and
served me well for 40 years.  Two years ago, when we got Rilian, our
Greater Swiss Mountain Dog, the desk began to take a beating.  Ril would
run and bang into the desk, and he broke the top drawer guide I don't
know how many times.  He knocked off the front spindle leg at least
twice.  Ron fixed the desk each time.  It began to look worn, and I had
originally decided to refinish and sell it before Rilian began
controlled demolition on the furniture.  Then, last year, when Kate got
married, we kept her border collie while they went on their honeymoon.
We got up one morning and Buddy had chewed over halfway through the
front spindle leg.  There's no fixing that.  Over the past year, I have
been wanting to get rid of the eyesore, but nostalgia has kept me from
doing so.  I felt emotionally connected to that piece of wood..
Last week, I was sewing some patches on some pants and I couldn't find
some of my sewing notions.  I have 4 different boxes and tins for
various sewing accessories.  They hold everything from the pinking
shears to the zipper foot to my thread supply and buttons.  As I
searched through each box, I told myself, I wish I had a nice sewing
cabinet to keep my stuff in.  I came in the living room, and added
"sewing cabinet" to the growing list of things for Ron to make.
Also last weekend, I helped my mother move some of her furniture up to
the new house.  In payment for that, I received a much loved old,
antique oak washstand that mother bought as an antique over 50 years
ago.  She'd been using it as a storage desk, much in the same way I have
been using my childhood desk.
So, I brought the washstand home and placed it in the living room where
the old desk sat.  As I picked up the old desk to take it outside...it
was headed for the woodpile...mother said, "it's too bad you couldn't
use the left side of that desk for something....those 3 drawers are
still good."  Ding, ding, ding...bells went off!!!  So, instead of
moving the desk to the woodpile, it was moved to the workshop.  Today,
Ron cut off the right side of the desk and sanded and reworked the top.
 It is now stained and varnished, and when dry, I'll have a "new" maple
sewing cabinet that will sit next to my sewing machine for all my
stuff!!!  It is such a great feeling to still have part of my life in
something that I can keep for the rest of my life and even pass down to
my daughter.  I am soooo psyched about it!
So then, I am picking up the wood scraps from the parts of the desk we
cut away, and as I am taking them to the woodpile, I realize that the
desktop is solid maple...ding ding ding again...I just went out there
and drew out cutting boards.  Ron is out there now on the bandsaw
cutting out cutting boards to give as Christmas presents.  We've had a
rough financial year and before my little epiphany had decided not to
give any presents this year, but now we can.  Even better, I can't wait
to give mother her cutting board because I want her to know the history
of that board.  It truly is a piece of me going out.
I wish I could describe the feeling I have right now.  The desk lives on.

Bev

--
Bevanron of EarthNSky Farm   Sleep well tonight, for somewhere in the
ocean's depths, MY son is protecting YOUR freedom.