That poor chair.

I suppose it has a better life, looking forlorn and unfinished in my foyer, than if it were in a landfill. Still, I'd like to be done with it.

It's been 276 days. I've soooo missed my deadline, it isn't even funny. Bob's been gracious. For a time, the chair was relegated to the guest room/Caroline's room. Then I decided that I needed to start working on it again, so I brought it back downstairs. (Out of sight, out of mind -- when it was up there, I just didn't think about it!) Now it's the first thing you see when you walk in our front door ... and it's not exactly saying, "Welcome to our put-together home!" It's saying more like, "You will notice that we have a lot of unfinished projects here" -- which is a pretty accurate statement, come to think of it.

Anyway, would you like to see what it looks like now?

Okay. Here we go.

Before:


After:


So it's obviously not done. I'm working on the cushion right now, which is stressing me out a little bit: sewing is not one of my strengths, but if the thing were just straight lines, I'd feel a lot more confident. But the cushion cover involves curves, corners, piping, and a zipper. Lord, have mercy.

Still, I'm making progress, and it feels good to actually be working on it again.

Somehow, having a baby really slows things down. Especially when you keep seeing new milestones like this:


I don't want to miss anything with little Owen ... though I confess: he rolled over for the first time this afternoon, and I only noticed because he thonked his head on the radiator and wailed. That's when I realized that he was suddenly on his back, not his tummy. Sweet guy. He willingly obliged by doing it a couple more times for me so I could record this big moment in history.

There are a lot of times that I wish that my life were different, that I had a "real job", or that I had more freedom, or whatever, but the bottom line is that I'm grateful for what I have.

I have it pretty good. The chair may be unfinished. I may have holes in the plaster ceiling in the dining room, really slow plumbing in the bathroom upstairs, and some odd shoulder pain that comes and goes. But I have it pretty good.

Time's a' Wasting

So I think I'm on something like Day 47 with the chair now. Please don't tell Bob. I really am making progress, and I'm beginning to enjoy it. This is the fun part! Pulling staples out and removing the nasty old upholstery fabric was definitely not much fun. Retrieving someone else's candy wrappers, silver chains, and loose change from the depths of the stuffing was pretty gross.

But putting new fabric on and seeing it fit nicely? That's fun.

The chair's on hold, though, for a couple days.

I'm having a garage sale tomorrow. My mother-in-law is moving and downsizing, and her neighborhood doesn't allow garage sales, so I told her we could sell her excess at our house ... and that gave me a good excuse to round up all OUR excess. And apparently, we have a lot. Like tons of clothing that the girls have outgrown. Like 50 pairs of pajamas. Fifty! Crazy.

So I stayed up late last night, sorting clothes, making price lists, putting price tags on the non-clothing-items. All of our stuff is ready to go. Today, I'll work on my mother-in-law's stuff. About 2/3 of it is on our front porch, and I need to go pick up the rest of it today. (Except for her books, which Bob will get later. I packed two boxes of her boxes the other day, threw out my hip, and started having contractions. I'm only 22 weeks pregnant. It's a little early to go into labor without due cause.)

So, that said, I better get a move on.

I know I've mentioned before how much my grandfather enjoyed making money. Well, apparently, I do, too. I'm excited about this garage sale, in a way that's fairly abnormal, I think. I always wanted to be a cashier but never was, so there's that part of it. There's the organizational part of it, which I enjoy. And there's the profit! Woohoo.

Bob's hoping we make at least $100. I think we'll fly past that number, but we'll see.

Off I go to take a quick shower before the little'uns wake up.

P.S. Anyone want to make a guess at our profit number? And, should I bake and sell cookies? Or leave that to the end and only do it if there's time?

Because I know you're dying to know...

Here's an update on the chair.

This is what it looks like right now. (And what it's looked like for about a week.)

And here's the fabric I chose, pinned and ready to sew the first piece (the inside of the right arm). Of course, the trickiest piece comes first. (Dear Kate, thank you, thank you, thank you, for the tip about PrudentBaby's how-to's. I followed the instructions exactly for piping, and it worked beautifully!)

I got this fabric for $6/yard. Originally $24/yard.

That sound you hear is me, patting myself on the back.

Stalling

The chair is now stable. I can sit in it, and it doesn't fall over ... or even creak. It's comfortable! I like it.

So the time has come to start the upholstering process.

And I'm scared to death.

It's not even a scary part yet! I need to start taking the old upholstery off the thing, and I'm just completely intimidated.

Buying fabric would be much more fun.

Step 1, Take 2

Y'all might want to say a prayer for me. I'm about to go at this chair with some wood glue.

If I mess this up, I won't be able to look Bob in the eye. (He's skilled with wood-working and is still willing to glue the thing for me.)

But thanks to my [foolish?] pride, I'd really like to do this whole thing myself.

I may regret it.

The Chair, Step 1

So, as I was loading the chair into the back of the van (and Bob reluctantly came to my aid), I realized that one of the legs was, I thought, loose.

That would have been nice.

One of the legs is, in fact, barely attached. As a result, I don't even know if the chair I rescued is comfortable; you can't even sit on it without it collapsing. At least you fall forward-- I hate falling backward.

Bob wanted to glue the thing for me (less an act of chivalry than a self-protective measure, since I've never glued wood before in my life), but alas, he was headed out of town and did not have the time to do it. But he did give me a pointer or two. Namely, put the thing together, clamp it, and make sure you know what you're doing -- THEN unclamp, glue, and reclamp.

So I pulled back the upholstery to reveal the injury, put the thing back together (this involved a mallet), located the clamps, and secured them. Then I put the chair up on its feet, only to discover that the newly clamped leg is about a half-inch lower than its three siblings. Ta-da! The wingback chair is now a rocking chair!

Ugh.

I think I know the problem, but I'm not sure I have the wherewithal to tackle it yet tonight.

Meanwhile, this is the only thing I've done to the chair, other than look at upholstery fabrics at the store, which was totally cart-before-horse of me. And the clock keeps on ticking.

36 days.

Tick Tick Tick...

Nope, not my biological clock.

But the countdown Bob & I agreed on for a chair I picked up off a curb. 45 days. If I don't have the chair presentable in 45 days, it's going back out to the curb.

Questions: Am I skilled enough to reupholster something? (I've never reupholstered anything in my life.)

Will I have the time to get this done in 45 days?

Should I just totally make it mine, or should I run upholstery & stain ideas past Bob?

Is this piece of furniture even worth it?

It has sweet lines, and we could use more soft chairs, either in the sunroom, or the foyer, or both.

Am I crazy?

Bob thinks so. I may be. But at least there's an end to the craziness. 45 days, one way or the other.