dual personalities

For a brief period every spring/early summer our family DOES CHORES in a hopeless attempt to keep up with our neighbors, all of whom have houses that could headline a feature article on ‘small town perfection.’  Yesterday one of our neighbors arrived home with an air compressor-driven power washer that weighs a ton (my boys had to get it out of the car for them) and makes a lot of noise, but also transforms a dirty clapboard house into a blazing beacon of whiteness. Well, hey, thought I. If it works for them, it might work for us. I assigned the job to #3 son because he wants to earn money and I figured he’d enjoy getting wet and using what amounts to a junior fire hose. Alas, the boy managed to sleep through most of the fun, but I think his dad rather enjoyed the experience.

my very own Tim Allen

Aside from egging the boys on I’ve been  achieving domestic bliss inside. My new table arrived earlier this week (look for pictures of it in situ in a future post). It’s a 19th century mahogany ‘work table’ from the Canadian Maritimes (I’m thinking Scottish).

Here it is in antique store

We have an older, somewhat similar table from my family. Twenty years ago it looked like this

You get the idea

We’ve tried to protect it, but those handy drawers invite constant use and it has taken its toll. I decided that it needed to move to ‘my end’ of the sofa where it would be subject only to my delicate, feminine touch (stop laughing). But I couldn’t just switch tables  because I needed something with drawers for all my DH’s stuff and our other end table is a round, tilt top. Thus I found a perfect excuse to buy a new antique!

Having done that, I decided to revive the ones I already care-take, so I bought some wonderful new furniture polish that I highly recommend:

The key is to put it on sparingly and then LEAVE IT for at least one hour before buffing. Today I tackled my 18th century Windsor Chair, my glass-door bookcase and my Gothic clock. See how much shinier they look!

Truly, it works. All you need is some elbow grease.

Stay tuned for my next project — repainting the upstairs bathroom…

What household improvements do you plan for this summer?

Let’s say a prayer for those brave men who fought so hard for us all those years ago in WWII. Any day (every day) — it doesn’t have to be June 6th.  Those who survived the initial assault were still fighting on the 7th of June. After all, it took much longer than a day to drive the Germans out of France.  Remember them often.

Today, I’m particularly thinking about my former pew-mate, Mr. Brennan (now with the angels), who went into Normandy on a glider. He never talked about it, but on Memorial Day he wore his unit pins. They were small and unobtrusive. He wasn’t the kind of guy to advertise — he wore them for the buddies he lost. As I recall he was with the 82nd Airborne, but I could be mistaken. You can read about the gliders at D-Day here. Herb was a gallant gentleman. On one particularly chilly Sunday when he could tell I was cold, he took his jacket off without a word and put it around my shoulders. They don’t make ’em like Herb anymore!

many gliders had bad landings

Look for another post tomorrow… in the meantime, enjoy a glorious Saturday!