Not red and white

Jan's house is up for sale now for the fifth year. To date, not a soul has ventured to check it out.

Brother Paul was completing some restoration work on January's ceiling. It looked pretty ragged from a regular viewer's point of view, even I knew something had to be repaired.

While Paul is on the job, he discovers a round oak table with classic bronze gears. Apparently, this classic table came from the Outpost. He is trying to convince me to take it back home so that it is saved from St. Vincent de Paul. In fact, he is pleading with me. "I'll restore it, this oak will shine, let me do it!" I say, "Ok, ok.... apparently, you have strong feelings in this matter."

When my wood-splitting task is done for the day, I head for Houghton Lake to look for a plastic, red and white checkered tablecloth to cover my table. The concept here is to re-enact a picnic in the kitchen everyday. It seems that even with the vast resources of Walmart, I am years too late. In the end, I stumble upon a black and red plastic tablecloth and am quite happy to pick it up for a song.