I even did some light sanding, which brought out the prettiest bits of aqua paint here and there. I have wondered if I should sand some more and try and pull out as much aqua as possible. Maybe I will. Later on.
And I have decided not to care about it too much for now. After all I am not trying to win a Best Decorated House in the World contest.
I love the way my globes look all lined up across the top, and I adore how the light flows through the open back. I like that it’s old and worn. That it is funky and distressed. That there is more than one layer to it’s patina. And of course that I found it on the side of the road.
Sitting on my sofa, admiring my little shelf, I am reminded once again how this story – this side of the road rescue and restoration- is also my story. I am, like my shelf, scuffed and worn thin in many places, I am pretty open, but I am still far from perfect. Luckily for my little shelf, and even more for me, this that is not the best or most important bit in our stories. No, the best part is this: We were found. We were plucked up, rescued, taken home and loved well.
This is something I need to remember a lot more often. Like every minute of every day.