#dadsaregreat

Who are you?

Who are you to dream,

To think,

To believe,

Or to even have faith,

How dare you,

How dare you have ambitions,

Have aspirations,

Seek admirations,

Who do you think you are,

Thinking you can have a happy ending,

Find a good career,

Your vocation, 

A wife,

Kids,

Thinking anyone will love you,

Thinking that you maybe one day you could love yourself,

You're pathetic,

Useless and a burden,

You're a disgrace,

The worst son anyone could ask for,

Demanding, asking and requiring,

Only for your downfall,

Your mistakes,

Like you,

You're just a fucking mistake,

A bad dream,

What were you thinking,

Leaving home,

Being independant,

You can't be, 

You're incapable of functioning,

You never have and you never will,

Why do you get happiness?,

Why do you think you deserve-

Anything but loneliness,

How could you ever not suffer,

Drink,

Drink like your paps,

Drink your sorrows away,

Find the bottom of the next glass,

It's in your blood,

Your genes,

Your DNA,

Why would you be able to break away?,

You didn't seriously think you could escape this?

Did you?

A corporate personality profiling thingy told me the other day that at best I am trusting… At worst I am gullible. I am therefore of the opinion that I must have brought this table at my worst.

Joking aside, it wasn’t my best bargain … I saw it tucked away at the back of of big old barn in Wittlebury, crammed with lots of old toot, and paid for it immediately without checking it over.

On picking up the table a week later, I didn’t think to give it the once over before loading it in my *cough*…Dad’s car. (Thanks Dad… This is not the first thanks you get!). Mum and I were far too busy buying a lovely old galvanised bucket! One mans junk is another mans treasure and all that.

It was only on getting the table home (My folks house that is) that I realised it was in a pretty poor state and had recently been given a rather slap dash “fix it quick” addition to one of the drop down table ends…in fact, the two ends didn’t even match! A bit sneaky really. I’d been well and truly had.

A quick search on the Internet told me this was not a “fix it quick” problem… In fact, I thought my lovely table was destined for fire wood. Not good for my first restoration table!

Now this is where my Dad is actually priceless! After a little bit of whining and complaining that I’m an idiot and it can’t possibly be fixed (with a wink in my Mum’s direction and some gentle encouragement from her too) he told me not to be silly, that of course it can be fixed… All you need to do is unscrew the table end; drill in three equally spaced holes perfectly to both edges; get 3 dowels of precisely the right size; add some industrial strength wood glue into the holes and along the edge; push firmly together with wood clamps and leave for 24 hours…. And he did just that! All fixed in 20 mins and when I arrived back at the house a few days later, it was all put back together and ready to go! What a legend.

I spent half a day this bank holiday weekend sanding it down. (Fyi barley twist legs are a nightmare to sand) and will be painting the legs and staining and waxing the top this weekend. I have a very special plan in mind for it.