From the time I arrived at the office this morning, I was in a near non-stop motion just so to get as many little lingering jobs completed as possible. My focus was so great on those necessary things, the lunch hour flew right over me and didn’t realize it until it was time to throw in the rag for the day.
I’m sure you all remember me telling you about a commode that was dropped off at my office over a week ago by an old colleague of mine who was in a near “beg” mode when asking if I would strip it. I agreed, so today was the chosen day it would get stripped of its varnish.
I didn’t even want to be near it because of the musty smell it had, so I mixed up a good dose of commercial strength Murphy’s Oil Soap and a little bleach, and went after every square inch of it both inside and out. Thank goodness that got rid of the odor.
The stripping project took much longer than I’d expected once I discovered it had been stripped and varnished likely back in the 1960’s or 70’s. The varnish they used back in those years is always a stinker to get off. One drawer at a time, then the chamber pot door, the three sides, and finally the top. Yikes! When looking at the clock when I finished, it didn’t surprise me it took exactly six hours to strip.
It is a beautiful oak piece, but I don’t think I’ll be in the mood to look at it for a very long time after it exits my office. I refused to varnish it, which of course is the easy part, simply because I didn’t want to be responsible for using the wrong type of finish or shade. It’s now standing in the hallway of my office until sometime tomorrow when the owner will be picking it up. Oh well, I’ll chalk today’s six hours up as a time I was able to get some deep thinking accomplished.
You may wonder why antique furniture sells so cheap. Well, I’d say one of the main reasons is that it takes a great deal of time and elbow grease to do any amount of stripping and finishing–especially if there’s extra detail and many tight corners contained in a given piece. And of course like today, there are times when smells also have to be dealt with.
When taking my last look at it before leaving my office, I internally laughed to myself when remembering what I’ve shared with a few, which is: “Considering my ancient age, I still believe I’m one of Mason City’s better male strippers.” I’ll continue believing there’s a distinct difference between method and technique.
While on my way to the office this morning, I noticed a flock of seagulls on the ground in an open area. Since I had my camera with me, I stopped and snapped the above photo. I’m going to send it to several people who’ve insisted we don’t get seagulls in North Iowa. Well, I don’t know you you’d call them, but they look like seagulls to me. After doing some investigating, we’re on a migrational flight-path of them as well as many other birds which rear their young much farther north of us.
Nearly every time I see a seagull, it reminds me of that now old movie, “Johnathan Livingston Seagull.” Since it’s been years since I’ve seen it, I’ll have to search for it online and watch it again. I’ll likely have a different take on it after all those many years.
Tonight’s one-liner is: No sinner is ever saved after the first twenty minutes of a sermon.