carolocallaghan

Okay so something I’ve realize recently, with sadness, is how many lovely trees have had to be sacrificed to create droves of pretty pathetic pieces of furniture.  I’m talking soo ugly, grotesquely ornate, heavy, and (shudder) 1970-style pieces.  You think “I hope that’s just veneer and someone didn’t cut down a 50 year old oak tree to make that microwave cart.” Let alone the thousands of others made with that or some similar generic factory  template.

It’s incomprehensible to think that we would have ever liked it.  Wow what a bunch of bad taste.  However it’s heartening to see that some people have started to prize that ’50s and ’60s  style again.  The slick angular, sliding door, brass buttonhole handle, little round stubby leg cabinetry of my childhood. Maybe that’s thanks to the Property Brothers.  Thanks Property Brothers.  Those trees thank you.  I just don’t see it happening with the velour track suit era stuff though.

I know that I’m not completely alone because recently I was helping my mother update her condo, and we took some 1970 pieces into a consignment shop and they wouldn’t even take them for nothing.  They winced sympathetically and we left amid murmurs of “Goodwill” and “shame” and “no one” and inside I’m just thinking “poor trees.”

I love wood.  One of my weaknesses (my husband will vouch for this) is my penchant for old wooden furniture.  Especially if it’s slightly dilapidated and needs screws, painting, or other repair work.  Old dressers, chairs, tables….  Once I bought this cool little glass fronted cabinet that took up residence in the garage until we eventually moved.  Once I bought a set of shelves with doors that had diamond-paned glass.  I painstakingly stripped and sanded it down, painted it a horrible baby poop green and repainted it black with a white interior.  In between it blew off some saw horses in a gust of wind and broke and John dutifully repaired it and I actually managed to get it in the house.  It’s one of my favorite belonging … still doesn’t have the doors on … but I still have ’em!

I don’t look at it though and think “poor tree,” so hat’s off to that furniture maker.

Yesterday, John and I went to this old family nursery out in the county, established in 1947, when furniture was still special.  We were looking for a tree to replace a messy little ornamental cherry in the front yard.  I guess I’m not a universal tree advocate.. sorry tree but: no shade, no real fruit, not even green leaves…  So we meandered around with Dolores, a sweet older lady who apologetically did her best to decipher the nursery’s map and spread sheet.  We looked at 50 kinds of trees and (since I can’t get a California Oak and live 100 more years to see it mature) realized what we wanted is the same kind we had for 24 years before moving: giant, deep shade, gorgeous branches, beautiful fall foliage.  So we put a down payment on an October Glory Maple, which will be delivered in the fall.  It was kind of like an adoption, a big long term commitment.  It will hopefully outlive us, and if it’s ever turned into furniture, hopefully it will be the heirloom kind.