Morning my lovelies,
Hope you’ve all had marvellous weekends so far?
Yesterday our little area got put on the map on a global scale – for the second time since we moved here (first time was back in 2009-10 when it was proven our area had a higher birth rate than Pakistan and India. Take THAT! You must try harder!) and it was because a couple got married in our supermarket. Cos, that’s how we roll..? I mean, clearly, had Husband and I not married in an idyllic location close to where I grew up outside Stockholm, that would have been my go-to place. I think I would’ve walked down the aisle around the water-vapour-mist machines around the fresh fruit and veg.
A la Phantom of the Opera.
Maybe even get Husband to wear the Phantom mask! <notes down idea for wedding vows renewal>
Today, lovely readers, I wanted to talk to you about my wonderful chest of drawers I upcycled for my boys’ room.
When I was expecting TBT of course my mind went into overdrive while the little monkey was draining me of all my energy and somehow making me constantly hungry so I had no choice but to eat continuously. At one point I considered renaming myself Gretel. I. was. huge!
Having invested in cheap-and-cheerful flatpack furniture it didn’t take long for me to realise the units weren’t up to scratch. I think they lasted about 9 months before they got booted out of the door. The only reason it took me that long to get rid of them was because I was not at work, and therefore couldn’t make financial decisions.
Once I was back to work, I spent hours on eBay bidding on countless chests that would fit. I even made counter-offers that the sellers would just reply with a “LOL!” to. True story.
In the end, I came across these:
They looked clean! They were two! Lots of drawers! The guy sent me measurements, they seemed good!
Only issue? They were from the deepest darkest Norfolk. Don’t get me wrong, I love countryside, and I revel in it when we’re away, but this… this was something else.
Stepdaughter was bored at home with her two brothers and embarrassing Daddy, so I suggested we go on a road trip! Yay! Girly time! Just the two of us.
No phone connectivity.
SatNav isn’t entirely sure where we’re heading to, either.
For those that don’t know me, I drive an old man’s car (Saab) and I must admit I felt very out of place there. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not in pristine condition but it’s not a pickup truck. Or a modded car. Or a pickup truck. Or a trailer. Pulled along by a pickup truck. You get the picture.
We drive for what seems like hours (only 2 or so!) and come to the approximate destination. After having driven around the area a couple of times, I call the seller and ask for some more directions.
“I’ve seen you drive, you’ve gone past my house five times!”.
<cue horror movie>
At this point I was glad I didn’t call Husband as I more than likely would have made the mistake of saying I’d be “Right back” and therefore fulfil the inevitable prophesy (FYI – you mustn’t EVER say that line. Ever. Cos you won’t be back! You’ll be chopped up and stuffed in the freezer. Like Little Women was stuffed in Joey’s freezer in Friends! And then fed to piranhas by a man with an eyepatch rubbing his hands together with glee… You get my drift.)
Sooooo, I drove back to the location the seller described.
A big gate – check.
Barking scary HUGE dog at said gate (…who, if hungry, probably would’ve eaten me alive there and then. And any leftovers would have been stuffed into the freezer…) – check.
A mobile home with a guy sitting on the porch outside it smiling over at me – check.
He seemed nice enough, offered to let me see the units as they were in the house – I gracefully declined and made excuses about muddy shoes. The shoes I’d worn while driving. In my car that had recently been cleaned. Shoes that now stood on his sand-covered porch. Of his mobile home.
After an odd look, he shrugged, went inside and brought out the units, one after the next.
They were in impeccable condition, heavy as anything as there was no veneer in them at all, just the Real Deal.
The next part involved fitting them into the car. A saloon, not made for furniture.
Thankfully, my stubborn Swedish/efficient German heritage with a long history of Tetris growing up, I was not defeated.
Stepdaughter probably could have done with a chiropractor to help unroll her spine from the return journey having sat pretty uncomfortably, but I must admit I was happy once we got back home!
The next hurdle was getting them into the house – on our return I was greeted by Husband who looked at me with raised eyebrows and asked the question everyone dreads – “where are these going, then?” Secretly, I wished the house could have magically increased in size while we were gone. The next few weeks involved scrubbing
Was it worth it?
You be the judge.
Now, the boys have units that have been fully personalised and are completely unique. Two of a kind. And, they also have their (step) mum alive and in one piece to this day, to tell this somewhat unique tale!
Do you have your own design story to tell? Any eBay bargains you want to share?