Table Talk

Way back in July, Mistah and I got a banged-up but really cool round table at a yard sale . . . for $5. I blogged about it (naturally) here.

It’s a handsome table,
.

which expands to 7 feet,

although its incredible expandability didn’t do us much good, since we didn’t have anything to put into all that expanded space.

And dinner parties tended to be a little crowded.

We needed leaves.

Enter Handy Dad.

We asked Dad if we could commission him to make us a couple of custom-fit leaves for our cool old table. And Dad said yes. Because he rocks.

He and I went back and forth for a couple of weeks, me measuring the width of the apron and the thickness of the table top and taking photos of the profile, and emailing them to Dad. Then he and Mom had the audacity to go to San Diego for a week, completely ignoring us and our top-priority project.

When they finally returned, though, they drove right up last Wednesday, for a fitting.

My Dad’s a perfectionist – a really good quality in a surgeon – and the two leaves are absolutely, well, perfect.

The table, however, is not.

When it opens, the table changes from a perfect circle to an imperfect oval.

Thankfully, Dad brought 2 routers and a saber saw so we headed out onto the deck in the 6º night, to make some adjustments.

We routered and we sawed, until the perfect leaves matched the imperfect table.

And after we finished with the power tools we hammed it up for the camera.

Next we turned the whole shebang upside down, so we Dad could add the hardware to connect the leaves to eachother and to the existing table. Mom and I did a lot of supervising.

Dad just goes and goes and goes until the project is done. Aren't those leaves gorgeous?

There were, of course, refreshments. And the crock pot was simmering with yum chicken-curry-ginger-tomato delight.

Bill and Mom and Dad chose a stain that best matched the existing color, so Dad could take those now-perfectly-imperfect leaves home, and finish them. He's also going to make legs, to support the far-apart table ends when the table is open to its full, proud, impressive 7 feet.

The legs will screw into existing hardware on the table's underbelly.

The hands of my parents, and my dad's handiwork. A mid-week visit in the middle of January -- what a delightful treat.

Thanks, Dad! Awesome job. Now get to work on those table legs, wouldja?