My latest refinishing adventure

I don't even remember what year I found this chair.

Bought for a song at a yard sale, I originally thought it might be made of mahogany, it's so heavy. Now, however, I'm suspecting it might be oak. I should add, though, that I am TERRIBLE at identifying wood, so who knows?...

I'd read about the yard sale somewhere and figured I'd check it out. I had been trolling for used tools, and bought this behemoth instead.

As I remember it, the seller told me he'd found it at an Amish barn sale. It had been found tucked in the back of an old barn, as a matter of fact. The property owner wanted it out of there. So, here I was, dickering over the price. He wanted $75, I think, but I talked him down to $40. At first he wouldn't budge: he'd clearly been watching his Antique Roadshow. But I pointed out the spots on the arms where someone had clearly attempted to sand off the old alligator-crackled shellac finish.

Front leg detail.

I also pointed out that while the seat was clearly leather, other parts were obviously vinyl. So, I got a deal.

It turned out I needed the guy's brother to help bring it back to my place. It weighs around 75-100 lbs. If not for the little wood casters on its feet, I wouldn't be able to move it to save my life!

As the years have passed, I've looked at it guiltily, aching to get started, but unsure of what direction to take. Searching books and web-sites hoping to get some sort of inkling about its history, I'd lose heart and busy myself with other on-going projects. 

And now, for whatever reason, it's on my radar and I aim to do right by it. It's waited long enough!

As I've slowly begun to pull the materials off, I'm simultaneously coming across info that leaves me hopeful my piece is from the mid-1800's while stumbling on things that leave me concerned it's a  1960's Amish DIYer's knock off, lol.

Rusted out decorative furniture tacks over a leather-like banding that was used to trim over the faux leather-like fabric. I've never seen vinyl that has this type of fabric/canvas backing. Underneath, you can see the chair has been stuffed with dried grass. The banding and decorative tacks cover old upholstery tacks that were holding the faux leather in place. You can see the crazing of the finish on the wood, here, the alligator-skin look shellac can get after years of age. This leaves me wondering if the chair is from around the turn of the century.

Peeling back more of the outer arm fabric to reveal not only the backing of the fabric, but also the dense packing of the dried grass.

A cross brace across the lower portion of the arm supports the grass stuffing above. Below it, an opening contains ends of burlap, one piece that has the leather seat cover sewn to it (and was pulled taught and nailed in place over the spring cords), the second piece, the burlap backing for the interior piece of leather covering the inner arm. The upholsterer didn't bother trimming the excess, but folded the extra 6-12" up into the inside of the arm. Within its folds I actually found several very old lady's hair pins/bobby pins.

This piping was across the front of the seat. Weirdly: the seat surface is old leather (as you can see in the picture below) But the front edge of the seat, and the piping, are vinyl. However, this is NOT the same vinyl that is on the outer arms or back of the seat. As you can see, also, the piping was not made of cotton but of twine. The quality of the fabric leaves me thinking this piping and front piece were attempted sometime within the last couple decades.

Here, you can see the leather of the seat top. This same leather also covers the inner arms and inner tufted back of the chair. As you can also see, the leather is so thin and dry, it tears like paper. Beneath this what-looks-like cotton and dried grass is a layer of burlap that covers a grouping of springs that are tied with twine and set on top of furniture strapping. The bottom of the chair (as you can partially see in one of the upper pics that was a close up of the leg) is actually covered in a golden colored upholstery fabric.

I'm hoping I can run my pics by someone who will be able to give me some insight into the history of my piece. I guess we'll have to wait and see!

Ocean Waves Afghan

November of 2013 found me looking at that gigantic yarn stash I've mentioned over and over again... and left me feeling like I wanted to cry. On the one hand, I was feeling incredibly grateful for the generosity of the women who'd given me so much yarn. Still, project after project seemed to be making little, if any, headway in getting my stash down to a manageable size. So, I also had a sense of overwhelming: would I NEVER use up this yarn?   You see, as I've said before (and I'll say it again), it's hard to justify to either myself or my husband that I should buy the latest and greatest yarns out in the crafting world when I have 10,000,000 yards of yarn already languishing in my crafting room.

At the same time, I have a third room in my house that functions as both an office and a guest room... and needed 'something'. The decor was spare: a desk, a folding chair and a daybed were all you'd find. Some of its spartan appearance was due to it having been previously occupied by my Mom. She'd since moved out, generously leaving the bed behind and, hence, solving at least one aspect of our challenge in furnishing that room. Some of the austerity had to do with the fact that the carpet in there is a thick-piled, luxuriously deep, brilliant red. 

Red is a lovely color, adding a rich elegance when properly applied. However, we're talking about a girl who has steeped her living room in turquoises, apple greens and tangerines (looong before it was 'in', thank you very much). Red's not exactly on my radar as a decor color in my home. So, as you can imagine, I've had a hard time wrapping my mind around how to address the 'beautifying' of this space.

Change the carpet, you say.  Well, as a renter of this adorable little ranch, that's simply not an option at the moment. And, even if I owned the place, new floor coverings simply aren't in the budget.

Being the rocket scientist that I am, it's taken living in this home, complete with yarn stash, for almost two-and-a-half years before coming to the realization that yarn and rug complement one another. Seeing as how I'd also just inherited another bed and was in need of bed coverings, I began trolling the internet for crochet afghan patterns. I liked the idea of melding this wide variety of reds, wines, pinks and off-whites to complement the floor covering. Heck, I was hoping I could pull off making it look as though it was all planned. Enter the Ocean Waves Throw.

The pattern itself is simple. I felt trepidation to committing to such a large-scale project, though, knowing that a simple pattern wouldn't necessarily equate to quick closure. I'd have to work at this project morning, noon and night for weeks, nay, months, to have success. I visited the site to read the instructions and ponderously assessed my stash at least four times before finally deciding the benefits outweighed the pain... er... costs involved.

I got started right before Thanksgiving. Between that holiday, cookie exchanges, social commitments and an extended Winter Break (thanks to the snowiest winter on record in our area), I'd seat myself down to attempt busting out a couple rows at a time. Designed to span and drape over the width of a twin bed, one row seemed to go on for an eternity. Two rows created one complete row of a particular color. The original pattern called for five or six different colors. My stash had about eleven. Even at my quickest, I timed myself at one hour and thirty minutes just to finish one row of color (or, two rows total). My mantra through it all: "You're gonna have a cute blanket when you're done, AND you'll have cleared your stash... a cute blanket... an empty stash...cute blanket... empty stash..."

Life's surprises, inconveniences, busy-ness and interruptions certainly attempted to elbow their way in to usurp my attention and draw me away. I mean, really, how long has it been since you last saw me here? Just the same, a half hour here, two hours there (during my little one's nap-time), and slow and steady won the race.

It so happens I over-estimated my stash's abilities: confident I had a mountain of yarn able to knock out a possible queen sized afghan, I actually only had enough to finish half of a twin sized blanket. I'm calling it a 'coverlet'. Yeah, I made a coverlet... because I planned it that way... yeah.

Ultimately, I felt a huge wave of satisfaction when I pulled that last stitch through. I grabbed my scissors, snipped the yarn and sat, incredulous, for a moment. I stared at the blanket; I stared at the stash (which I now have to keep in a large plastic container since our new kitten LOVES to get into my yarn). The amount of encouragement I felt is indescribable. Quickly retrieving my yarn needle, I worked that last piece through, snipped any pieces of yarn peeking through, and immediately made my way to the office.

Draped across the bed, it was made expressly for that room and it looks the part. I love it. I'm so glad I didn't allow the magnitude of the job tempt me to shy away.

And, as Spring (hopefully) lingers ever closer, I find myself feeling hopeful I can accomplish even more exciting projects in the weeks and months to come.