Skip to main content

The Door Table

Once there was a store in Georgia. It is no more, but how I wish it was. I likened going in there to treasure hunting. One never knew what was going to be in there, and you had to dig through and wade through all the "other people's treasures" to find your own. I once found a set of blue and white teacups and saucers from England. I found lace handkerchiefs, a rocking chair, and an end table. But by far the best find was my kitchen table. I had stopped by one day while the kids were taking horseback lessons and the then little ones were asleep. The store was not open, but I went up to the window to see if anything new was there. And it was there. The table. And six chairs too! We were in need of a bigger table with Jack on the way. My mom had offered to give us her old one, which I was going to accept if I didn't find something I liked better. I didn't want anyone else to even see the table because I knew it was supposed to be ours, but one can never tell about what other people think. They might just think it was supposed to be theirs! I wanted to camp out in the parking lot til the store opened. I even drug Tony out that evening to stare in the window. He agreed that the table was very nice. And do you know that when I went there in the morning and talked to the store owner, he even agreed to a trade-in of our old table and chairs? I don't think I shall ever grow tired of our table. It is ours for as long as it lasts, and since it is a sturdy old door, I suspect that to be a nice long time.


  1. Cute! I've seen door tables on the web as do-it-yourself extra seating space for large gatherings. Old doors are wonderful. I buy them at yard sales and thrift stores and admire them in old buildings... I once pulled over to inquire about a great door I saw from the road, only to find it was still attached to the building. :-)

  2. Yay!!!!! Did you do this story just for me? Love the it, and I love the story with it! Thanks Jenny!

  3. great story about a special table. My table was my great grandma's and I'm hanging on to it! sometimes things just talk to your heart, don't they??

  4. i love your table, and all the things it holds: your knitting, your books, your food, your people. a special place.

  5. Love! Isn't it so nice having a special piece of furniture with a story tied to it? I remind myself of this when I'm tempted to go buy meaningless junk. I wait so that I can find something special once we are done moving.

  6. Pienso hacer un comedor de puerta madera cedro y las patas las pienso hacer de pochote

  7. Hi, wondering what is the size of the door?


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Fog and faith

 I stepped out into the coolness of the November morning to start the car and defog the windows, preparing to take Jack to school. Daylight had yet to appear. As we drove the many miles, the sky lightened, and we could see the mist hanging out just above the grass. We usually listen to a story together on our drive, adding commentary, exchanging a knowing glance or a shocked expression as the twists and turns unfold. I relish this time with Jack. I know that all too soon he will be preparing to leave the nest, like his sisters before him.  On the drive back, I pull my rosary from my purse and pray. By this time, the sun is just about to appear, making the sky a beautiful orange-pink on the horizon. I am pondering much as I pray, for the path I am on is once again rocky and uncertain. Such is life, whether we have faith or not. Faith makes it bearable. For the most part, the road home is a straight shot and I can see the ribbon of road laid out before me, narrowing in the distance. The

A Tale of a Tail (or the excitement of the day)

 First of all, I doubt anyone still checks this little old neglected blog, so I am probably talking to myself right now. But if by chance, there is still someone out there, I will tell the tale of the tail I came to tell. As little boys are apt to do, Peter left his rainboots outside on the front porch several days ago. As they do not add to the decor on the porch, I decided to bring them inside this morning and I put them by the back door, where they belong. There they sat, until the mail truck came by and tucked our mail into the box. I may or may not have mentioned that our property is surrounded by a moat during the rainy days. There is no going to collect the mail without rain boots. Seeing how Peter was supposed to be doing his math lesson, of course he eagerly volunteered to go get the mail. He hopped up from the table and went to put on his boots. The scream that came from him made me leave my seat! I thought he had hurt himself. He claimed there was a roach in his boot. I pick