Tomorrow, our new dining room table will be delivered. The number of new pieces of furniture we've purchased in our 15 year marriage has been small indeed. It was only a couple of years ago that we replaced our then 25+ year old futon with a memory foam bed.
The table we are bidding farewell to was rescued by me sometime in the 90s. It was in a free pile on the sidewalk outside what I knew as "the old sailor's home." In the throes of flush economic times, Belltown, only a few blocks from
Seattle's business district, had become the hub of a condominium building boom, and places like the old sailors' home (and union halls, and warehouses) were sitting on land the developers wanted something fierce. The old sailors' home was remodeled into a fancy inn, but the table, along with some green tiles, came home with me. (I don't remember exactly how, as I didn't drive then.)
It's served us well, and I have taken many still life photos on its well-worn surface. But its garage sale chairs are in the last stages of their decrepitude, and we need a bigger table for the crowd of gamers who gather here. I'm rather pleased by the prospect of a nice, solid, big table, with chairs that match, but I'm still sad to let an old friend go.
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