Tuesday, March 29, 2016

On creating a hunting lodge

Ammon cut down a tree in his yard last summer.  We were over visiting one day and I asked him if I could have a piece of the trunk for an end table.

"What?!?" Adam said.

I explained my hopes and dreams for an end table that looked like a stump.

He said, "Are you going to turn our house into a hunting lodge?"

I'm not sure why this is the danger.  It's not like I have a bear rug, a deer's head mounted on the wall or a collection of hunting rifles.

Ammon prepared me my end table though.  He brought it over one day and I had him put it in the garage.  I think I still had Christmas decorations up and I needed a clean slate before I knew where I wanted my latest acquisition.

When I was ready for the table, my knee was hurt so I waited.

One day I asked Mark to carry it in the house and he couldn't.  Turns out it's pretty heavy.

I casually (so as not to raise hunting lodge alarms) asked Adam to bring it inside one day and he said, "Aren't you going to paint it or do something to it first?"

But I didn't want to do anything to it because it is one big (and heavy) piece of glorious texture.  I think the texture is what I was craving.

Several weeks ago, I decided to move it in the house myself.  I tipped it on its side and rolled it out of the garage and up the front sidewalk.  When I got to the steps I had to go one at a time.  I'd bend over and heave it to the next step.  At one point I hoped no neighbors happened to be glancing out their windows.

I finally got it inside the house but then I realized the underside, the part that had been sitting on the garage floor, was slightly damp.  My plan had been to get it all in place so Adam would realize my vision but I wanted it completely dry first.  The thought of returning it to the garage made me want to cry.  So I rolled it against the wall in the living room, confident Adam would never see it until it was dry and I was ready for the big ta-da moment.  (Isn't Adam a lucky guy to have someone prepare ta-da moments for him?!?)

But then Ammon's family and Marianne's family came over one Sunday evening and Ammon noticed and mentioned something about the stump.  "Shhh!" I said.  "We aren't talking about it!"  I explained my quandary.

Adam said, "I knew it was there."

Later that night when everyone had gone, I asked Adam if he really had known it was there.  He admitted he hadn't.

This is part of the reason our marriage works.  Adam doesn't immediately notice my hare brained ideas, especially when they're in process.  Also he offered to carry it back to the garage for me if I wanted him to, but I was willing to wait and let the desert air work it's magic.

Well, yesterday was the big day.  The stump felt completely dry.  I enlisted Mark's help and we put it in place.  The texture made me giddy.  I put a big overgrown plant on it  (I plan to give a haircut to it as soon as it's warm enough outside).

I took a picture and sent it to Ammon.  (I will let it stay there for awhile before I mention it to Adam.  It will seep into his subconscious and then when he finally notices it, he won't be too surprised.)

I guess until he reads this blog post....


Here was my text conversation with Ammon:

My mom has designated Ammon as her perfect child.  For being the perfect one, he can be a little cheeky.

Cheeky or not, I like my new end table though and I appreciate my perfect brother.  It's handy to have accomplices in your decorating schemes.  It reminds me of when I went through my Southwest phase in high school and my dad dug up a cactus for me to put in my bedroom.


2 comments:

Adam Davis said...

Where did that stump come from?

Olivia Cobian said...

That reminds me of the stumps on our parents' front porch. See, you do get your decorating prowess from them!

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