We’re in the market for a new kitchen table. We’ve been using one my parents bought back in 1983 and let’s just say it is the opposite of what I envision as my kitchen table. (think fake wood grain and early 80’s round back chairs) So we made the rounds to the furniture stores looking for our ideal table. We tried Ethan Allen, where we started to agree with the sales lady that it would be an investment and totally worth the $1700 sticker price. Then we remembered who we are, and hit some of the less expensive stores. Still, with every table we just kept looking at each other and shaking our heads. The tables look nice on the surface, but we need something sturdier and we want something with more character. “I just want a big ass farm table,” says my darling husband, while gesturing with his hands the scope of such a table. In total agreement, we head to the antique market.
It’s this complete like-mindedness that makes me so glad I married my best friend. Like the time we decided to collect “good” bourbons and display them on our bookshelves, along with our other Kentucky memorabilia. Being bourbon drinkers ourselves, we also bought a bottle of our usual cheap stuff, for actual drinking, promising ourselves that we would save our collection for special occasions and company. It didn’t take long for us to talk each other into having “just one” of the good bourbons at night, and pretty soon the bottles were more than half empty and the shelf became less of a display of Kentucky pride and more of a shameful testament to our frequent bourbon drinking. Now we display tobacco leaf candlesticks and a wrought iron horse sculpture there. I laugh every time I see the shelf: Kentucky pride without the temptation.
Whether it’s the big moments in life, like what to name our children (we did not even have to discuss it: traditional names only!), or the small ones (definitely a vanilla latte kind of day), we seem to be in sync. It’s something I sometimes take for granted, but am always grateful for.
And yes, we’re going to get a big ass antique table. Just like everything else we’ve acquired together, we’ll know it’s ours when we see it.