This is a phenomenal table. You may not think so the first time you look at it, but let it grow on you. It’s got faux wood. Faux marble. Faux copper. Faux Bertoia. It’s got taupe.
And it comes with chairs. In fact, it’s a sibling set, being ousted from some linoleumed nook in Palm Springs that you may even be able to see when you go to pick it up. Right now, they are $100. Rationalize this by saying $60 is damn cheap for a table, and $10 a chair is a steal.
Maybe you’re not feeling it yet. That’s okay. Picture your nook. There is wood around and there are houseplants. Your laptop is there too because, be honest, the desk in your living room is for piling the mail on and that’s it. There is are no tablecloths because you, idealized future owner of this table, are not a tablecloth person.
Those glazed ceramic tumblers you wanted? The salad bowl you bought when the world went crazy for wood burl? They can be there too because this is the only vintage kitchen table in the world that works with them. You have coasters? Placemats? Layer them on. There is no over the top with this thing around. The kitchen of tomorrow wears pants and this is the right pair.
Here’s your auction; my photo credit.
Gone for months and then back with a table. I should apologize? I suspect a garden variety home blog crisis, complete with nagging threat of public journal narcissism and an annoyance in evaluating life by fitness for consumption. I’ll be back more often, or not. I hope it’s the former because I’ve liked doing this. I like the companionship, such as it is. Other bloggers, do you ever get stuck like this? Those of you who read blogs but don’t have your own, what’s your explanation for why we share what we share? What do you get out of it, really?