My Mom had discovered an old fashioned sewing machine in our shed. It was old but not worth much as an antique especially since it was so beat up. It seemed like it would make a great desk for my room up at school. So I had Dad remove the sewing machine, patch up a large hole, and put a shelf in. He left the making it pretty part to Mom and me.
As you can see to make that pretty was ambitions, possible leaning toward insane. Truthfully the sanding, priming, and first few coats of paint went without so much as a hiccup and quicker then I could have imagined. When we finished Mom and I had found this can of spray paint in the garage that said it was clear and would seal and protect our paint. Great we thought. Alas when we sprayed it on it most definitely was not clear. It was a cloudy white color, and made the carefully sanded, smooth as glass surface feel like those scratchy kind of welcome mats people have by their front doors. D'oh! We ended up sanding and painting all over again. After two more painting mishaps (both too depressing and complicated to explain) and a knob installment problem I have a final product that I am almost sinfully proud of.
I am glad it is done. After I forget how difficult it was I think I would enjoy doing something like it again. I figure I already made almost every mistake possible. My skills can only improve from here on out.
We went fishing on two really beautiful lakes.
