Category: Memories

The Doctor Lid Desk is almost done!

The exterior, interior, lid, and drawers are all a lovely, saturated black stain (Varathane Poly +Stain, Black Satin). The lid has been attached with its original hinges, with layers of polyurethane removed. The drawer pulls have been replaced, removing the old brass “colonial” look with a mottled, stamped cast iron model. I spent a little extra on the pulls because I liked them so much!

The desk is missing one metal arm that pulls out the pieces to support the desk lid, when open. It’s a very simple piece that sits low against the desk, and attaches with screws. So far, we haven’t been able to locate anything similar online or at Muff’s. The owners there suggested a salvage place in LA, and my wife reached out to them via email. No word yet, so we are still looking, and considering hitting up friends who do a little metalworking. It’s a fun treasure hunt, and it won’t hold up the progress.

Finally, I need to paint the insert. With a lot of elbow grease and determination, the interior letter organizer is almost to a bare wood state. It has taken DAYS. We had even upgraded the stripping agent to the “extra strength,” but it still took some scraping to get the original finish out of the detail work. Sandpaper, razor blade, wire brush, wet, dry, steel wool, you name it, I tried it! With a few hard-to-reach areas and a few stubborn spots left to go, I’m thinking paint will be more forgiving than stain.

It occurs to me that the furniture I had previously refinished must have had very little detail work. Let’s see…patio furniture, picnic table, wooden couch frame by IKEA, early-American style dresser, and my first parentally-assigned effort, a faded ping-pong table…yep, nope…lots of flat surfaces and nary a beveled edge in the lot. The extra work is fine, though. The attention to detail is good for me.

While working on the desk, I’ve been listening to Elizabeth Gilbert read her book, Big Magic. Her soothing voice and gentle chuckle accompany me as I scrape and stain. Her ideas of how to lead a “creative life” are coming at just the right time. While staying safely at home and furloughed from work due to the pandemic, I have time to consider what I’d like my life to be like, when and if things return to “normal.” The repeated motion of sanding, scraping, and brushing is hypnotic, contemplative, and allows me to quiet the rest of my mind and hear her words. I don’t have to drive my kids somewhere, there’s no video meeting I must attend, and my wife is on duty for making dinner tonight. In the book, Liz Gilbert focuses mostly on her writing, her process, and draws parallels of what the listener (or reader) could do to lead a more creative life. Mind freed by repetitive motion and lack of obligation, I’m able to hear and understand, and to apply some ideas as she says them. For example, her mother’s adage that it’s better to have something “done” than to have it “done perfectly” allowed me to accept some imperfections in the desk lid and call it “done.” Liz’s own assertion that ideas are separate entities sounds perfectly reasonable when I need to stop sanding or staining and type an idea into my Notes app, or take time to write down last night’s dream before I continue working on the desk on a given day. I have often had the distinct sense of an idea “hitting” me – actually, this will be a blog post at a later time – and Gilbert’s discussion of this theory keeps me focused and sanding for the better part of an afternoon. This influx, this permission, to do something differently and explore my own vision is infused in this desk restoration, and both the desk and I are better for it.

I think I’ll paint the organizer a different color than black. It’ll be a cool surprise when the lid is opened. My daughter pointed out that a lighter color would camouflage any letters in the organizer, while a dark color would make them stand out – an aspect I hadn’t considered at all. Hmmm… I happen to have a warm gray leftover from a past home improvement project, but you know what? There’s also a can of purple!

Note: This post contains affiliate links. If you’re interested in the drawer pulls or Elizabeth Gilbert’s book, click the link. If you make a purchase through the link, I may receive a small fee.