Years ago my Mom found an old cedar chest. She painted it white and it became my toy box. Years later, she got into painting. She did tole, reverse pen & ink, water color and others. She painted a stool for me. It was the cutest thing. It lives in my attic now until I can grow up and get my own craft room. She wanted the cedar chest to match the stool. She painted it baby blue and put a white oval on the very front where she planned to put another painting that would be similar to the one on the stool.
She had good intentions, she really did. But the chest stayed that way for another twenty something years. Until now.
No, I did not suddenly become a fabulous artist and paint me a picture on it to match the stool. I'm afraid that won't ever happen. I'm crafty, not artsy. I don't paint nearly as fabulous or as beautiful as my Mom. My talents lay in other directions.
I do have a confession to make here to you and my Mom though, before I go on with my story.
Mom, Dear Readers,
I've become a stripper
Yes, that's right, a stripper. And I'm not ashamed either. Dammit. I'm 38 years old and I can strip if I want too!
Wanna peep show?
Fine, I'll start with my Upper Chest. The Lid, actually.
The End, sorta
I finished this a few days ago. I've only stripped the paint off the chest, I haven't begun the next steps. The actual chest I finished this afternoon. It's drying so I'll show you more tomorrow and give more of the history of the chest. Wait 'til you find out how old it is. (A girl is always proud that her chest looks younger than it actually is. wink, wink, nudge, nudge.)
I can't wait to store my stuff in it. I suppose I could have just gone ahead and skipped the trouble of stripping it and restoring it and just put my yarn and fiber in it. But this is something that I've wanted to do for years.
Besides, the chest lives in the Eldest's room. Baby blue was fine when he was younger, but a 7 year old has his dignity to think about. Right?