Thursday, April 14, 2011
This home is the first we have owned that has ever had a 'formal' dining room. Not that there is anything formal about our family. As I cleaned and polished last week, I thought about each piece of furniture and its history. Specifically the dining room (love the early morning sun that shines into the room - especially when there is a cheerful bouquet on the table). Pat and I purchased the table and chairs at an antique show in the northwoods. Probably the first and last thing we ever bought at an antique show. We had shopped long and hard. Price was important, but I knew exactly what I wanted (rare for me). It was pricier than we would have liked, but when I consider all the wonderful meal times with family and friends that have occurred here, I have no regrets. Lots of funny stories told here and great conversations. My favorite memories? Three boys sitting around the table books and papers spread out before them as they worked independently, yet together on their homeschool assignments. Where did those years go? If you look very carefully there is a faint inscription on the table - not a swear word, but not a word that I allowed in the house. It often accompanied the name Beavis. It appeared on the table the same summer that Jon babysat a troubled young boy in our home. I always assumed the young man had put that graffiti on our table. I have learned lately (now that they can outrun me and are bigger than I am) that perhaps someone else was the culprit. Now the dining room is mostly quiet. But pretty. Someday I will give you a photo tour of the whole room. I like quiet. And pretty. But I loved sitting around that table when it was noisy and crowded and cluttered, even more.