So the Bonefish --which is what we are calling it unless or until we can figure out what this metal is--
|If you have any idea what this metal could be, please let me know!|
is happily swimming on the tin top table that sits next to the grill. As always, there are some cool details
|The head is cut from some rusted, pressed tin (ceiling?) that we got at By the Bridge,|
the eye is composed of a couple of pieces of metal (washer and bolt?)
|The tail pieces came off an old screen door (By the Bridge again), white washed with milk paint,|
then tied on with a bit of wire and a scrap of fabric (see Repurposed)
and we are now on the lookout for a cedar post to better serve as a base ... or not.
The tale of a table (5)
My mom loved old stuff. And she loved raising money for St. Andrew's church in Williston Park, NY. She combined those two passions by running a thrift shop out of the church basement, chairing countless St. Nicholas bazaars, and running Attic Auctions.
The Attic Auctions were the most lucrative, eventually earning her (and my dad, who served as auctioneer) a Bishop's Medal of recognition. The concept was simple: ask parishioners to look in their attics and basements for unused treasures. The church auctioned the items and kept the cash, while the parishioners got a tax write off. Everybody won.
Since some of the items were sizable pieces of furniture, it wasn't unusual for bidders to pay for an item and come back to pick it up later. So it was with one vintage tin top table and the four maple chairs that accompanied it. Bought for $10, it sat in the church basement for weeks awaiting its new owners.
Who never came to get it ... at least not before we came on the scene, looking to scour Mom and Dad's attic and basement for furniture to put in our first house at Wilson Circle. So Mom took us to the church and offered us the table and chairs for $10 ... to be refunded to the bidders, if they ever showed up.
Sold! to the furniture-poor newlyweds. It rode down to Virginia in the aforementioned U-Haul truck, traveled from house to house in Williamsburg, and made the downsizing cut when we moved to Texas.
It now sits out on the back porch next to the grill, overseeing the delectable cuts of chicken, pork and beef that Don cooks to a turn.
Which reminds me of another story ...