I'm back in the saddle...oh, wait...out of Texas, back to Missouri (no saddles).
I took Monday and Tuesday off to make up for working over the weekend. "A" and I were exhausted after hauling all those texts back in our bags. Our biggest challenge was disguising the fact that we (ok, I) had 3 carry-on items. She would have, except she had a bunch of random loose belongings in her hands.
Anyway, I've spent my two days off getting my life back in order. And by life, I mean the basement...and by in order, I mean my jewelry-making and crafting space. My life is more in order when I have a great studio to work in. The Boyfriend's life is in order when I have a great studio to work in - in the basement. For a period of time, I'd been dragging all my stuff in front of the TV, and then would leave it there. I think he may have broken up with me if I hadn't resolved the issue (maybe not break up with me, but he would have thrown out my jewelry-making supplies and then I'd be forced to break up with him...either way, there'd be some breakin' up).
Here's the big tangent: I started with the basement. Things were going really well. I was organizing, I was dusting, I was putting everything in a logical place. Oh wait, that desk is kind of dull and boring. I think I'd be WAY more creative if I made the desk prettier.
The desk in question is a hulking gray beast that my Uncle J (actually my father's uncle, and my Godfather...a fabulous bachelor creature that's in his 90's and eats pancakes in the middle of the night) used at the block plant long before I was around. My dad had a hard time getting rid of it, so, as many things my parents can't part with...it ended up in my basement.
Ok, so dull, boring...I'll paint it! That's a splendid idea. I took the handles off, dragged everything to the back yard, and primed them. A coat of glossy cherry red paint followed. The handles are now black. Lovely.
Did I mention we're having a heat wave? It was over 100 degrees, and my main challenge in my painting project was the constant flow of my own sweat, which kept landing on the fresh paint. Repairs were made...still lovely. I'm painting everything but the top, which is an army green material that's kind of soft. Not really soft, but not really hard either. I'm not sure how paint would work on that...plus, I'd kind of like to leave an original feature.
I'm getting all my crafty-trinkety-jewelry-artsy-stuff away before I do the frame of the desk (I learned a valuable lesson when I spray-painted my bike in the basement...I painted everything else around it, and the floor now has unusual spots where objects served as accidental stencils).
The Boyfriend came home and instantly knew something had happened. Besides the house smelling like spray paint, he said I looked guilty. "See, I was working on my studio, and I thought that I'd like it better if...". He'd already seen the drawers propped up on bricks outside. I rationalized a little more, he smirked and mock scolded me.
I think this post will probably make my parents happy. That desk represents something special. I just needed to make it my own!