I walked toward my study closet with the phone to my ear, looked inside the door, and on a bottom shelf I spotted the small wooden box that had once belonged to his grandfather (my wife’s father) - the source of the ‘ping.’
“I have something she might like,” I said. “A small box, like you said, no more than seven by five (inches). It once belonged to your Grandpa Bob.”
“But it’s painted a light green,” I said while turning it over in my hand. “Nice old hinges. And it comes with a silver U.S. half dollar. Very nice.”
["A winter refinishing project. Lovely.": photo GH]
We decided to put the idea of turning the old box into something suitable for jewelry on hold, until we knew what shopping my wife had done already.
But the idea of refinishing the box (removing the layers of paint, cleaning the hinges) is not on hold, because I am now very curious about what kind of wood has been hidden from view for dozens of years or more.
Birdhouse making has slowed to a crawl now, and though I have other things on the go (a squirrel-proof - - insert laugh track here - bird feeding stand needs a coat of paint), by mid-January a short refinishing job will likely be front and center.
Readers of this blog will be the first... no, second, to know what hides under the paint. Stay tuned.
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