We’ve been living in this house for about half a year now and while there are days when I feel completely at home, it sometimes still feels so new and temporary.
Last week I finally realized why: we still hardly have any real furniture! Well, we do have a bed, of course, but no real closets (the cloth ones we bought are falling apart). We do have that beautiful cupboard in the kitchen and a table, but my “pantry” is still a bit make-shift (shelves on concrete blocks).
And on the porch, where we spent most of our days, we still had plastic chairs and a foldable side table.
It’s about time to change that. But… you know. That tight budget. And the fact that cheap chipboard will disintegrate within a year.
Luckily we do know a thrift store on the island and we have a car that can actually hold a bit of furniture. So we decided I’d start doing what I did in Holland too and visit that thrift store when I was out for groceries anyway.
Of course, I didn’t have to get groceries that week. But we did drive to town (a lot, actually) to do some paperwork and at one point we were very, very close to the thrift shop. So I hinted to T. that we might as well take a quick look. Much to my surprise (we were quite tired of all the driving around), he agreed.
“What do we need?” he asked. And I listed: “Coffee tables (multiple because we move around with the shadow), maybe some chairs or a couch, a bookcase, a sewing table and something we could use to store clothes and linens.”
He didn’t even blink. That man is used to the way my brain works, I guess.
They were a bit short on the bigger stuff, but on the third floor, we found two matching coffee tables. Really dated, brown, seventies style. But sturdy, real oak and kind of beautiful in their own ugly way. Oh, and cheap.
So we took them home. I cleaned them and rubbed some oil on that neglected wood. And then we put the small one between our chairs on the front porch (where we spent mornings and early afternoons) and the bigger one between the beds on the new porch (that will get a real roof someday, but we do sit/lie the rest of the day there because at that point the front porch is way too hot).
It’s kind of goofy, I know, but these silly tables bring a smile to our face every time we see them. “It’s finally starting to feel like a real house”, T. said. And I couldn’t agree more.
Now if only the rest of my list would magically appear in the thrift store… (but isn’t it great to know T. has the same bad taste as I do? – I actually rather like this type of furniture).
