A Tale of Four Chairs

I love making old things new. There is a deep, abiding comfort in redeeming something. The life of Jesus was all about a redemption project. I've concluded that it is simply gratifying to restore something to its original luster, the beauty it was created to display.

My sister-in-law and her mother are excellent at redeeming things. They see the hidden value under the chipping layers of paint and gaudy 80's fabric. But me? I profess to be able to do it. I look at something and with the arrogance of a school girl, I flip my hair nonchalantly and proclaim with utter confidence, 'I'll just paint it. No problem.' But on the inside I am the shy school girl hiding in the back of the class, petrified that the teacher is actually going to call on her. The confident school girl always beats out the shy one when I am in the store contemplating buying something tattered but promising. It is when I get home that I face the demons of inexperience, lack of know-how, and inadequate funds to support my new 'redemption' project.

Furnishing our little home has been a priority for me over the last few months. We sold most of our furniture before leaving California. It didn't make sense to lug it across country, rent a large truck to carry it all, and risk having it ruined by the 3000+ mile trip from sea to shining sea.

So, we sold everything except the beds. Every. Last. Bit. Of. It.

Once we landed in our own home, we began to unpack and take inventory of the empty corners and bare rooms. Eating on the floor got old really quickly. Thus commenced the searching process. I became a religious lurker of the local Goodwill and Craigslist.

Slowly but surely the home began to take shape. The living room was filling out nicely. I had a dining room table but no chairs. And I was kind of picky about what I wanted. I was about ready to throw in the towel and give up when my mom came to visit.

I remember the day I first met the chairs. It was a hot, sunny day in October. My mom and I were on a mission to find my dining room chairs and some patio furniture. We strolled casually into the Goodwill a couple miles from my home. This place is a virtual treasure trove. And this day did not disappoint.

Sitting there awkwardly were four white chairs, each facing a different direction as if they'd lost their way and each was trying to figure out which direction to take home. As I neared them I noticed they were the exact style I had been envisioning...rustic, farmhouse style, spindle-back chairs. Slapped haphazardly on one of them was a sign reading '4 chairs for 25.99'. Looking closer I could almost detect a shade of pink as they blushed in embarrassment from being sold for so little. I stepped up to them, bent down, and in a hushed whisper, with a satisfied grin I told them they were coming home with me.

They were instantly white again, I swear.

My mother and I quickly rounded up these four chairs, a few outdoor pieces of furniture, and a slew of lamps. Ecstatic from our finds, we shoved it all into her hatchback and headed home, our hands out the window, singing a gleeful song about our good(will) fortune. I may have even heard humming from the rear.

From that point on, the story is rather drab. Or at least predictable to anybody who has ever done this 'makeover' type of thing. Chairs sanded. Paint purchased. Paint applied. Paint not quite right and returned for a different type. Second purchase is much better. Paint goes on in layers. Much time elapses between coats. Long story short...it has been three months and all the chairs are complete, as of last week. Well, actually two chairs need one more coat. It will happen, some day.

They do look lovely, in case you were wondering. Instead of begging, Somebody please take us home!, these chairs proudly proclaim, Take a seat and stay a while. Enjoy a savory meal. Talk about love and life. I am a rustic farmhouse chair. It is my duty to serve you.

Sure, the work was considerable, and the cost was steep for my budget. But when I look at these ladies, I know it was all worth it. They are black and beautiful. Not a trace of pink, I promise.

Day 25

"The true meaning of Christmas"--a phrase so commonly used that I have trouble remembering what it means. In response, I've been meditating on these powerful words the last few days:

Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees!
Oh hear the angel voices!
O night divine. O night when Christ was born!

Merry Christmas to you all! Thanks for welcoming me into your homes this month. See you in a few days, after I take a little break!

Karis's pre-nap face. Needless to say, our little photo shoot was NOT a success.

She was happy to run around and ignore me, though. It seems that comes quite naturally.

A tricycle from great grandma (a.k.a. Big grandma). So NOT the meaning of Christmas but such a lovely part of the festivities, nonetheless!

The aftermath. We all made the mess when we were little...and now we're cleaning it up today.

Day 24

We gathered with the neighbors tonight to make luminaries, line them along the street, and visit with each other by the soft glow of candle light. The spirit of community was alive, and we left thankful for where we live.

Day 23: Confessions on Christmas Eve's Eve

(Fair warning: None of these have anything to do with Christmas or the spirit of Christmas generosity. In fact, they might even sound kind of grinchy. I'll work on that for tomorrow's post. I promise.)

#1 I awoke this morning at 9 am. Karis stayed the night with her grandparents, so I slept in. Blissful.

#2 I had leftover Mexican food for breakfast. Marinated pork tacos with raw onions, chopped cilantro, and a squeeze of lime rounded out the whole dish. Reheated in the toaster oven and served next to a cup of hot coffee, it was just what I was craving at 9 in the morning. And yes, I have a stomach of steel.

#3 I had powerfully bad breath all day long. (Refer to item #2)

#4 I think hell must look a lot like a visit to the DMV office.

I spent half the day yesterday trying to switch over the tags on one of our vehicles. I called before going into the office to make sure I brought all the necessary documentation. Feeling confident that I was prepared, I headed into the office. I got no further than the front receptionist's desk where I was told I needed my husband's signature. I walked out and drove to his work, miffed that I was misinformed.

I headed back, my former confidence a bit shaken. I waited 30 minutes for my number to be called. When I was summoned, the man at the counter said I needed my husband's signature somewhere else on the sheet. I huffed and puffed and nearly blew down the plastic encasement protecting the workers from people like me. He graciously assured me there would be nothing else after this. He even double checked with another worker. I headed out to my husband's work, again.

My husband kissed me and told me he loved me. I needed that.

I proceeded to march back in to the office, made a passing comment to the receptionist that 'third time is a charm, right?', and stood boldly behind that worker's window until he was free. No number system or waiting with the general crowd. No sir.

Well, he processed my documents. If he had needed anything else from me, he knew better than to ask. Lest you think I am a total monster, I will say I did feel compassion toward him. He seemed like he was new to the job. Truth be told, I always feel some compassion for DMV employees. Afterall, somehow they managed to land a job in hell. Maybe they didn't know it was hell when they filled out the application or sat in the interview. But I am sure with a few customers like me, they quickly learn their fate.

Day 22

Over the last week or so while standing inside the warmth of my home, I've noticed some red objects hanging from a tree in the back left corner of our yard. The first day I saw it I thought maybe some trash had blown into the tree. Upon the second notice, a few days later, I figured maybe they were a few leaves making a late autumn/early winter change (better late than never, right?) Well, today I sat down with a cup of coffee and gazed out the back window at the freshly groomed backyard. I saw the red again peaking out from the tree and it looked like whatever it was had multiplied. My first thought was that they were Christmas ornaments our neighbors had chucked over the fence that had landed ever so gently in random, beautiful order all over the tree. Weird, I know. That thought made me realize I was probably still half asleep and needed a second cup of coffee.

Upon attaining that second round, I headed outside to investigate. Lo and behold, I found a tree hidden behind another tree brimming with the most beautiful rose-ish, carnation-esque type of flowers. A real treat for someone like me who much prefers living in a house with fresh cut foliage than one without. I headed straight away to the sturdiest lawn chair I could find and brought it over to my new rosy discovery. A snip here and a snap there, I had a pile of branches with unnamed, fuscia-colored flowers lying on the ground.

I giddily brought my plunder inside and found a clean vase, plopping them inside. I was busy arranging their awkward stems and swooping flowers when the thought crossed my mind that this sort of behavior, bringing greenery inside fresh from the bushes, usually leads to also bringing in four, six, and eight-legged creatures inside as well. No sooner did this thought form in my mind than did a leaf crawl out from the branches. Yes, I said crawl!! Some sort of insect, brilliantly designed to look exactly like a leaf, peered out from the branches. I let out only a brave, boyish yelp.

Ok, ok. A girlish scream. Minor details, people.

Gathering my wits and the vase, I headed out to the patio knowing full well I did not need any more house occupants but also realizing I had found the better object to photograph. You see, I had intended on setting up the flowers nice and pretty. Letting their brilliant color shine. I figured it may not be the most original shot, but it would be pretty and maybe I could find a fun angle.

Well, a much more interesting angle had emerged in the form of this little guy. I set him gently on the back porch. Poor little guy shivered and cocked his head at me in curiosity the whole time. I am certain he wondered when this strange encounter would end. The one with the giant peering down in his face with the black contraption zooming in on his defenseless body. I am sure he resented my letting him sit there on the cold, hard cement with the wintry winds whipping past him, nearly carrying him off into the yard. I am sure he would have much preferred that fate anyways....landing on the soft grass and crawling off in relief. Alas, I took my photos, thanked the little guy, and returned him to his tree. I hope he found a way to warm back up following his visit to human civilization. Thanks for the picture, little guy.

Day 21

This photo is not for the record books. It is not a particularly impressive shot. Lighting could be better. Composition more striking. But it captures the real moment of Karis reading by the light of the Christmas tree today. I had but a few brief moments of down time to take this shot--dinner was overcooking in the oven, friends were en route to the house, and I had many things to do prior to their arrival. It was a quick shot. It's a post for posterity, really.

I am nearing the finish line for the December Photo Project. I can't believe it! It has felt like a long month and a short month simultaneously. I can't wait to share all my thoughts on the project and all that I have learned through this process. Only 4 more days of photo creativity to squeeze out. Thanks for all your kind comments and emails over the last month. They've kept me going! Hope to see you at the finish line.

And this photo shows what the book reading time became...book eating time! That child...always succumbing to her oral curiosity!

Click here to check out yesterday's lengthier post.

Day 20: Saturday is workday

It was a day of work and organization, cleaning and cooking, arranging and rearranging piles. There are days when this type of activity is dreadful, but today it was pleasant. The house continues to take shape, three months after move-in. Here are a few scenes from the home today, inside and out.

An army of toddler socks, mostly in pairs. Mostly.


My entire necklace collection. Some old. Some new. None of any monetary value. They've been begging to be photographed for some time now. Today I finally obliged. Such vain little things.


A self-portrait. I rarely do these, but the conditions were perfect: good lighting, a vase full of greenery from the yard, and a freshly hung mirror.


The hardest working, 'yard work detesting' yardman. When I inquired of all his labor over the last two weekends, he spoke of the satisfaction of progress and redeeming our little corner of the world. A fine answer from such a fine man.


Loving the bright blue hue of this bike. The first photograph is the view from our bedroom window. I like how the glass and screen created a hazy quality. Dreamy, even.

Day 19

Delighting the hearts of crafty individuals for centuries (perhaps even millenia), the homemade wreath. Yesterday was my first dabble, and I am pleased with what 15 minutes + $6 from the craft store + and some recycled Frasier fir branches can do to my front door. And those berries? While they have not made it into my daughter's mouth (thankfully), they did make it into the wreath.

Hopefully the wreath was a nice touch welcoming our house guests last night. Kate of Behind the Gate and her husband Omar joined us for dinner and a night's stay. So much fun and so good to connect with them. Thank you guys. Wish you could have stayed a week!

Day 18

I never tire seeing of this winter combination: beautiful, bare trees with a few leaves still hanging on against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. Can you?

Day 17

I took a much needed break from the home last night and met a friend at the town center. It was just what the doctor ordered. We talked about life, relationships, community, family...you know, the good stuff. She graciously placated me as I went around snapping shots of all the Christmas sights and gloriously artistic storefront displays. I love photographing store displays which corporate companies have spent untold amounts of money hiring designers to create. It was a free feast for my camera.

And my friend? She was so kind and patient as I had fun. She's the kind of friend that I could call and say, Hey, you wanna go sit and stare at some rocks with me? She'd laugh, then say yes and ask wonderful questions about my love for rock watching. A sign of a good friend. Thanks, Nikki.

Day 16

I set out to photograph a rare pair today. Karis' feet. I should have known better than to think this would be an easy catch. Rare pairs are often hard to photograph, I guess. For instance, take twin bighorn sheep spotted in the California's Santa Rosa mountains. Very rare. But successfully photographed here.

A little too obscure for you? Ok, well staying in California...let's take a pair of Hollywood celebs. Perhaps the Olson twins. I think if you scout out the right club on the right night, you will eventually catch that pair. We've all seen the pictures on the newsstands.

But the pair of my 17-month-old daughter's feet? Nigh near impossible to catch. As I looked through the digital file of photos I took this morning, I laughed at the sequence of events I found in those photos. In most shots her feet were either blurry with movement, not the right exposure as she moved from one part of the house quicker than I could adjust my camera, or the pictures contained just one foot rather than the pair. A select few had zero feet in it. I laughed out loud at those shots. [Incidentally, a great place to photograph her unmoving feet is when she is sitting on the toilet 'practicing' going potty and reading a book on homosexuality that she apparently found on the bookshelf this morning and thought would be a great toilet read. She has very diverse tastes in literature.]

Why do I share these photos with you, you ask? Well, this post is all about those shoes. This pair was one of my scores at the thrift store on Sunday [read yesterday's post here]. They are a beautiful pair of black dress shoes by an excellent children's shoe brand. Orthotically correct...they fit my child's slender foot beautifully. Why all the details? Because I marvel at the beauty of finding these shoes that retail for approximately $60 at boutique shoe stores and getting them for a steal at $1.99. I take great delight in that.

Day 15

I spent the weekend with the beautiful refrain on my mind, "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me." It's the chorus for a gospel hymn written at the beginning of the 20th century. [Read entire lyrics here-they are beautiful!] The song is based on the verse of Matthew 6:26 which reads: "Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" I think this passage holds so much meaning and poetic value, all religious beliefs aside. For me, it is intensely personal. It's a love song. A simple reminder I am cared for.

I needed that reminder after last week. My mother-in-law says things break in threes. The saying holds true for last week's events. The washer broke. Then the car. And then we received a hefty medical bill. Expensive life events. We went through last week reminding ourselves we are cared for by the Lord, the one who cares for the sparrows.

On Sunday we did a little thrift store shopping, and I came away with some incredible finds. Things I had been needing and hoping to find at a good price. I was elated. As we drove home, I kept thinking, His eye is on the sparrow...

This week I want to post some photos of the things that remind me of the sparrow. Images of the provisions that came to me exactly when I needed them. They are all creatively obtained. I am in a place in life where creative living is essential. It is a season of both want and plenty. While there is not much in the way of financial plenty (as is the case for many Americans right now), there is much room for creativity. And I like being in this place. I look at the world and see opportunities within the discarded, disinterested, and ordinary things. I repurpose that which has seemingly lost its value. It's a challenge to be creative. And the satisfaction is addictive.

I took this picture of my new 'seasonal' corner. I talked about this project here, and I am excited to finally have accomplished it. The photo for today is full of creatively obtained items. The chalkboard was one of my thrift finds yesterday. As we unloaded the car, I told Matt, "And I was even looking for a chalkboard just this size." The branch was laying outside in the heap of branches Matt gathered from the yard this weekend. The ornaments were a gift. The clock belonged to my late grandfather. While these objects may seem trivial to some, they hold untold value to me. They remind me that if He can provide birdseed, He will provide for me.

Day 14

The party was a success. An unhealthy amount of cookies were eaten. Colorful cards were made and signed for sick people in the church. Glitter was generously spread all over the dining room with the promise of showing up throughout the home for months to come. Laughter was aplenty. New memories were definitely made.

Day 13: Party planning kit

The Essentials:
Favorite cup of morning brew.
A delicious iced pumpkin cookie.
A very detailed list of all the tasks to be accomplished in 5 hours.
And a ceramic horse ornament, for good measure.

I'm hosting our third annual Charlie Brown Christmas Party tonight for the junior high girls in my small group from church. I'm remembering fondly all the youth in California that we started this tradition with, and I am anticipating creating some new memories this evening.

Day 12

Have been sick for 6 days.

Cold medicine has been a constant companion.

A Charlie Brown Christmas has been watched a record breaking 7 times in one day.

Karis has learned how to fully operate the DVD player without my assistance. A further note: Karis must surely think I am the most boring human to walk the face of the earth.

Am feeling better today but surprised that the cleaning fairies were not here while I was sick to help maintain the cleanliness of the home. Oh my.

Day 11: Toy Train Philosophy

Order
Chaos

Deconstruction

I broke into the nieces' and nephew's gifts today and had a little fun. Aunts and uncles reading this, please don't allow your tiny children to read my blog today, and let's keep this secret between us.

I felt a little like a kid unwrapping my present behind my parents back. And then I realized I wasn't the one receiving the trains. I was giving them. In fact, it could be likened to Santa Claus "testing" out the toys in the North Pole prior to delivering them to all the happy children. And you can't tell me you think the portly icon has never taken the toys for a harmless little "test drive."

That's really all I was doing. Honest.

Day 10: A winter verse

Two leaves fermenting in a rusty tin bucket,
soaking in a puddle of wintry rainwater.

All of nature is breaking down, hovering for warmth.
Hoping to make it to the season of rebirth.

The trees have undressed.
Bare, naked, vulnerable to the elements.
Harsh, unforgiving winter light beaming through crooked, arthritic branches.

Leaves returning to the soil, composting, groaning.

Creation is still.
Quiet.
Breaking down.

Two leaves fermenting in a rusty tin bucket.

Read here for yesterday's entry, posted late.

Day 9

As I sat in the booth last night at dinner with my husband, I was really dying to have my camera with me. It was the beautiful lighting, the way he was sitting there, the half sour cucumbers sitting on the butcher block paper on the table. All of it. I wanted to take pictures of the whole thing. The food wasn't anything special but being with him without our child and that lighting made my fingers itch to press the shutter release button. I guess that is what this project will do to you-- always make you wish you had your camera even when it is entirely inconvenient or just plain impossible.

Alas, no photo from last night. I leave you with that description and your imagination. Instead, I'm going to cheat and give you a little something I've wanted to share. It's not from today or this month or even from my camera. Yeah, that is a triple cheat, I think. Either way, my brother-in-law is a great photographer and took these photos of our family at Thanksgiving time. I went looking through the digital stacks a few weeks ago for a family portrait and the most recent one I found was blurry and from February of this year. I found lots of photos of Matt and Karis individually and together but almost none of me and the three of us as a family. Such is the case when you are the one who takes the pictures, I guess. So I was thankful for the bounty of lovely photos he took. These were my favorites. Enjoy and see you back here tomorrow for another "real" post.