Posted by: Rachael | February 28, 2008


Our table didn’t start its life with us.
A newfound soul-sister (who also had seven children in nine years) moved away to America. Her table with the accompanying benches she had had made to go with it came to live at our house and be a constant reminder of a Very Special Friend. The dents at one end where her littlest would bang his cup have worn away – or at least amalgamated with our own bangings to create quite a smooth surface! The varnish has peeled away and we have sat around with more than one set of dinner guests scraping the top so it is now almost entirely bare timber.
Father Bear has grand plans about cutting the sides square and fixing in extensions – we talk about these plans every few months;-) In the meantime, the table is collecting history, collecting memories.

The table is for working at….

chopping parsnips

making pizza lunches (with friends)
making plans

fulfilling dreams (aka excavating, albeit on a smaller scale than dreamed of)

creating musical instruments

building gingerbread houses

creating masterpieces (with friends)

conducting experiments
The table is there when you’re playing the goat
The table is there when you meet friends you’ve been writing to for years – friends who live in Romania

The table is there when you’re celebrating with family

(and sometimes we even put a tablecloth on it!)
celebrating with friends
celebrating birthdays
and doing real Su-do-kus too!
The table is for eating at
and eating under (when it’s made into a hut)

The table can even be made beautiful….

this photo is one which prompted a friend to tell me I really should start a blog!

Written in 2007



  1. […] *communal* around a table than standing in a line at a bench. Maybe my table romance is coloured by our dining room table. It’s not the fanciest table around, but it’s wooden and it has a history. I’d say we’ve […]

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