Tag Archives: furniture

Sell

Another chapter begins. I’ll be leaving the home I’ve lived in the longest in my life – sixteen years. The kids were eight and four when we moved in.

How hard can it be, right? You sell, bank the cash and drive off into the sunset. So I called Aitch’s friend and colleague in her four-year stint as an estate agent, Pam.

Pam, You Know What You’re Doing, You Come And Do This.

So you know what she does? She gives me a list as long as your arm! You do this, then you do this, then . . she’s as bad as Aitch was!

So she tells me: Sell your furniture; sell your books; sell the many wall hangings which haven’t hung on a wall for ten years since Aitch went; Fix the cracks, the windows, the doors, the ceilings; Paint – a lot; Rip up those carpets; New light bulbs;

Yes, Pam.

Mow the lawn – WHAT!? Now you’ve gone too far!

Hell, if I didn’t do all those things for us, why should I do them for strangers? Cos you want to sell the house, Pete.

Oh

– bookshelves half empty now –

Sold!

I decided I’ll never get this done, so we put the house on the market “as is” – its called voetstoots in South Africa. And on that very day we got two offers for the full asking price. A week later their finance was approved and so I asked ‘Must I Leave Now?’ No, they said, it takes about three months before you’ll have your money! Damn!

Now it is very real and I sat Jess and Tom down and broke the news. They picked what they wanted from the house, a truckload went off to Tom’s rented rooms:

– Tom’s truckload departs –

Jess wants less, but the other fridge and microwave will go to her.

(later: Have now gone to her).

~~oo0oo~~

I Know

When you’re trying with little success to rid your place of stuff and when the stuff fills a double garage and at least one room, with other rooms a bit crowded, you should not accumulate any more stuff, but I can explain.

There was a damsel in distress. I was on my horse. She asked ‘would you?’ What was a gallant knight errant to say? Or to do? There’s only one thing a knight can do in such circumstances:

– hie kom ek! –
– knight in the background knows this is mistaken logic –

Actually quite chuffed with my ill-gotten gains. Check those armrests as drinks platforms. These are practical, serviceable, lekker chairs. Comfy. Thanks Petrea!

– the plastic furniture can go now . . –

I do suppose Louis knew Petrea was divesting them of assets while he was far away in Gurugram . . .

~~~oo0oo~~~

This acquisition is made worse as just the day before I was rolling my eyes at my Dad (96) who in one breath was stating his absolute determination – ‘this time’ – to get rid of stuff; and in the next breath was mulling over buying two new armchairs for the room he wants to add on to his house ‘for her (that’s Mom Mary) to sit in the sun as the room will have big windows.’

Right. Alone in a three bedroom house with Mom now in a home, he thinks what he needs is an extra room and two new chairs.

~~~oo0oo~~~

knight errant – a medieval knight who traveled around sponging and sometimes doing brave or dodgy things and helping people who were in trouble if they were of his class or ‘above’ – Cambridge, improved

knight – a man given a rank of honour by a British king or queen because of his special achievements, usually for said queen’s benefit. Entitled to be called “Sir / Meneer”

medieval – related to the Middle Ages (the period in European history from about 600 CE to 1500 CE)

special achievements – usually helping said king or queen purloin or keep ill-gotten gains

hie’ kom ek – here I come! Stand back!

~~~~

Footnote: Don’ wurry. When the last days of Elston arrived and when stoot came to shove, Louis whipped in and rescued ‘his’ furniture, including Louw’s huge recliner, and some other stuff besides.

stoot – shove

Our Woodworking Dynasty

The old man made a beautiful riempie bench, modeled after an old one he bought. He thought he’d make two, so that along with the old one he’d have three, the thought being to give one to each of his three beloved children. Here’s mine, newly re-riempied after the originals vrotted and frayed:

Made of blackwood; thickness’d on his big thicknesser and planed on his big plane; also blackwood legs, turned on his big lathe.

Then olive wood turnings for the backrest uprights; yellow wood inlays routed into the backrest with one of his routers; dovetail joints to hang it all together.

The original leather riempies were from a kudu he had shot in old South West Africa on a cousin’s farm. He had it skinned and brought the skin and the horns and the meat as biltong home to Harrismith in 1969. Then he took the skin to Marianhill monastery where it was tanned and cut into riempies. Apparently the monks n nuns like them some leather.

riempie-bench-2

Quite something! No wonder he suddenly wants it back, some forty to fifty years after the kudu died. Here he is with Mom in his woodwork shop/haven/retreat.

mom-dad-garage

~~oo0oo~~

He’d be so proud to see his grandson following in his footsteps, ably taught by his talented son. Bella, inspecting our work, is not so sure about the ‘talented’ part. She thinks maybe this helicopter will fly with a pronounced yaw.

~~oo0oo~~

Aside: While watching the riempies being cut the old goat decided, ‘I can do that’ so he had a riempie cutter made for future use.

Riempie cutter

Never did happen, but then a huge part of his fascination was the tools. He once spent ages totally rebuilding a thicknesser someone had discarded and he had salvaged. It didn’t ever get used again, but he loved taking it apart, fixing it and putting it back together. Metalwork friends made some replacement parts for him and he changed protective covers from aluminium to plexiglass so you could SEE the parts! It was a shame to craft new parts then hide them. The finished tool looked great, wish I had taken pictures.
~~oo0oo~~

vrotted – rotted, just more impressively. Well, they were over forty years old before they were even used, then did service for – I dunno – about ten years. Very seldom sat on, must admit. Mostly just looked at and admired.