Once a upon time, this happy homemaker bought a table,
a wooden table,
a very nice and long and shiny kitchen table.
And she wanted it to stay perfect.
And then she remembered: She lived on a farm,
not the Louvre.
Did the happy homemaker revolt, seeking revenge by covering the wooden slab with a plastic tablecloth? Or did she and the table live happily ever after?
You can find out by pulling a chair up to the table over at The High Calling today, where I’m writing about my table (and, um, perhaps a wee bit about my obsessive tendencies)…