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Last weekend, Dennis and I had some company over for a BBQ and, for the first time ever, were able to sit with all of our guests around one big table. No kids in the kitchen, adults in the dining room, nobody leaning against the island or balancing a plate while sitting on the couch. One. Big. Table. A picnic table.This isn't just any picnic table, this is my grandparent's table that has been used for fifty years of bar-b-ques before its inaugural dinner at my house last weekend. My Grandpa Roy built the table from a kit after tiring of his four children dragging the freestanding benches from his prior picnic table to other places in the yard - no doubt to assist in tree climbing or some other adventure that the benches were not intended for. He passed away when I was ten years old so my memories are of begging him to play his harmonica or seeing he and my grandma dressed to go square dancing.
As an adult, I've gotten to know him through the stories my family has told - most are related to his many projects (he was a contractor). Some of my favorites include his theory that hallways are a waste of square footage (I tend to agree) and the argument over a sliding glass door or a single door leading to the patio of the house they built that my grandmother still lives in. She swears she would have left him if he put in the slider - he must have taken her seriously since there is no sliding glass door there to this day. And finally, the idea that if your children are going to beat up the things you own, you might as well do it first.
I know you've seen it on the HGTV shows - the hosts explaining that you can make a new piece of furniture look weathered and aged by beating it with chains and cutting it with a knife. I guess my grandpa was just ahead of his time. My parents have a coffee table and two end tables he built years ago using this technique. Not only did they stand up to his children, but to my brother and I as well.
So - getting back to the picnic table - after fifty years of use (and no doubt abuse), the wood had rotted beyond repair and I asked my grandmother if we could have it to fix up and use in our yard. She was happy to let us have it, provided we could lift it. And she wasn't kidding - the frame is steel and that sucker is heavy!
Finally, last weekend, Dennis took the old wood off and put the brand new redwood on. After admiring his work for a few minutes he decided something wasn't quite right. He disappeared to the garage and came back with a knife, a heavy chain and a sander. After a bit of "damage", he declared it done. The finishing touch I'm sure grandpa would approve of.
2 comments:
I remember that table! I'm so thrilled you did something special with it! Makes me a little teary! All the picnics and Easters and Fourth of Julys that table has seen! Do you remember Grandpa's almost unhealthy obessession with the pinwheel fireworks? And how he always had to find a way to make them spin faster and throw more sparks? And how at Halloween he would always tell us the Great Pumpkin was coming and how he would grow a giant pumpkin in the patch and take us out there and tell us it was THE Great Pumpkin? And the silly witche's costume he used to put on to scare us? And we rang the doorbell evertime even though we knew he was going to get us. We plant marigolds in the yard for him every year. It's a tradition with me and the kids because they were one of his faves.
Yes! The pinwheels! I loved seeing each contraption built to outdo last year's. And I totally forgot about Halloween - what a great memory - thanks for reminding me!
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