there are several smells that i associate with childhood. one is the combined aroma of broccoli and chicken that vented from the kitchen of my childhood home into the northern territory of our driveway basketball court. another is the “house smell,” of my friend lauren’s home that was two doors down from ours. this was not a bad smell, mind you. just a distinct smell. but perhaps the most jarring smell to my young nose was the ever-present odor of turpentine and other chemicals used to strip grime, paint, and varnish from old furniture.

i have visions of my parents working all day on a saturday to convert a cheap, ugly dining room table into an attractive gathering place for many thanksgiving and christmas dinners. i have memories of my dad walking without embarrassment from a neighbor’s trash pile with a rolled up rug over his shoulder. my parents’ garage, until a few years ago, was home to all manor of cool pine furniture and even a crystal chandelier, costing my family a sum total of zero dollars. all this is to say that i come from a long line of scavengers and makeshifters. we are proud (and even a little giddy) to be at the bottom of the furniture chain.

there is nothing that i enjoy more than discovering a perfectly lovely piece of furniture by the side of the road, schlepping it home (with the help of my very patient husband), and spending the next few days making it beautiful and interesting. the kids are now in on the hunt as they twist around in their carseats to peer down side streets. on friday, for example, the monkey made the mistake of saying, “look mommy, a treasure!” i stopped the car, flexed my muscles, hoisted this future headboard (old door) into the CRV, and off we went.

the kids and i stayed too late at barbecue fest just the night before, and though we were hurrying home to bed, we stopped for 45 minutes at the sight of this:

even though the kids were cheering me on as i tried to hoist this bad boy into the too-small trunk, my friend susan had to be called in for this job. thanks susan! with just a little sanding and waxing, the wood is now shiny and smooth, and the white paint circle (see above) is gone!

spring treasure season opened this year with a chest of drawers that i spotted while i was on a long run in east memphis. it took our entire family to load this 1950’s nursery centerpiece into andy’s suberu outback. andy removed his belt and used it to “secure” the furniture for a very tedious and risky 20-minute ride home. i wish i had a picture of the pre-makeover ugliness. you will have to use your imagination to envision the tarnished brass handles, the formica top, the off-white grungy glaze, and the cracked peeling lattice that was glued to the top drawers. but here she is in her current state:

until we can figure out exactly what to do with all of this stuff, the ever-patient andy has lost his parking space in the garage. this is a small price to pay, in my opinion, for the thrill of the hunt and the hilarity of my children’s participation in the search and fix up processes. who knows, we might just land a crystal chandelier to live amongst our tools, gardening equipment, and tricycles. then we really will have a treasure island!

when andy left the house last night for a meeting, our evening routine was ahead of schedule. the bird was clean and running around in a diaper. the monkey was in the shower, and i was so giddy at the prospect of having everyone in bed (including myself) by 8:15 that i even found motivation to do the dinner dishes. i am not sure how things devolved so quickly into a scene from the big lebowski.

the bird took a rare break from meddling in the dishwasher (yes, IN) to tell me that he wanted to tee tee in the potty. the fact that he pulled his diaper off and ran toward the bathroom prompted me to take him seriously, even though we’ve got at least six months to go before we re-enter potty training hell. i dangled over the potty for a couple of minutes to no avail. as it turns out, the bathroom rug held much greater appeal. he soaked the area around his feet and then giggled with maniacal glee!

not to be outdone, the monkey, who was cleaning his “stinky parts” in the nearby shower opened the steamy door, jutted out his pelvis, and marked his own territory on the rug. then, he let out his own prideful fit of uproarious laughter.

now i’ve got to schlep this rug into the back yard and hose it down. the bathroom floor with be awfully cold and bare while it’s gone. alas. it really tied the room together.