Mid-century sideboard, mine. *Note: no mirror

If you've read other posts, you might know that my friends and I are rather keen on old things (and that I am a master of understatement).  

A friend, who lives quite close by, was out on the trawl for treasures when she came by a mid-century/late deco wooden and mirrored dressing table, alone in the back room of the house which was being cleared. She forked out the requisite dollars (not very many) and hauled it back to her burrow, where she and a friend unloaded it into the garage.

A lick of paint, a bit of sanding, and it was looking very schmick indeed, so my friend and her mate hauled it up into the bedroom, where it faced the bed.



This is Tasmania, it was winter. My friend was complaining that she couldn't warm the house, even with the wood heater and the gas heater and the sun shining through the big windows. Like my house, it has big windows to catch the sun and it isn't a cold house. She started to have aches and pains in her knees.  She started to be woken in the night by a great weight on top of her, or pressing against her, in her bed. She was alone.

My friend's young grandaughter came to change for netball, but wouldn't change in the bedroom any more. 

Chest of drawers, spare room.  No mirror.

Discussion ensued with someone we shall call "Friend 2", who has a certain sensitivity to such things.  Her immediate response to the knee aches was that religion was involved - prayer on the knees and so on.

Further research by Friend 1 showed the dressing table had been owned by a pastor, of the old fashioned brimstone type. 

She decided that the dressing table should leave her possession pretty urgently.  In the meantime, she wanted to move it out of the bedroom. The friend who had helped her carry it in came by to help move it.  Without anything in it, they could barely lift it. They managed to drag it into the hallway, with difficulty.

It was advertised super cheap on Gumtree and Facebook, but no-one who expressed an interest turned up.  After a night, the girls gathered their strength and managed to drag it out onto the front veranda, where it sat, mirror to the wall, sulking.  

Occasional table, no mirror

I went there for dinner on the Friday night, and I can confirm that it was definitely sulking.  I did not want to be standing on that veranda, I felt very uneasy while I was waiting for the door to be opened. My door knocking had a certain frenetic edge, especially since the veranda light wasn't working. There may have been scratching on the door. But inside, it was toasty warm. My friend's knees had returned to full working order.

It eventually sold for a pittance and was removed. It either wanted to go or the people were very strong.  Or it had found out about the plan to drop it into the pit at the tip, where it would go one on one with the big bulldozer.  My money was on the bulldozer.

I still can't look at furniture involving mirrors. 

once again onto the verges....

My favourite time of year has begun.  I'm a bit pressed for time so I'll just give you the highlights from week one:

A nomination for second in 'best finds ever'* is this young gentleman.  He positively leapt into the vehicle, several thoughts about how he may end up.  I'd love to know why someone painted his face green, and set fire to one knee. 
*Best find ever: the church hymn board last year, in case you were wondering.

In the same pic, polo ...um... stick things.  I'm going to need 2 horses, and a 'Polo for Dummies' book, especially if my new armless friend wants to play.

50's metal chair, faux wrought iron folding chair, and circular stand in the style I call 'curly'. How could I leave them? TLC required, consider these the 'before' pics.

An electric base guitar, in case, with amp.  I'm putting the band back together.  The mannequin will have to play harmonica, for obvious reasons, probably not very well. 









A vase, English, 1890-ish. Classic Nouveau shape. Sir Christopher Dresser design.
Gotta love Google.

On the practical side, a new awning for the back veranda, to replace the ones blown to shreds this year, another easel, 2 working Dyson vacuums (for friends), a new trolley, and bits and bobs, various.  I like the unused chantilly cream maker, like a soda syphon, complete with a full box of gas cylinders. I never wanted to make chantilly cream till now.

Now, I have to put my stuff out, so that I can fit the new stuff in. Lucky I got the trolley...