My Kitchen - A Pinch Of This And A Dash Of That...The Perfect Recipe

The end of my kitchen a month ago.

     The end of my kitchen has held many different antiques over the years. Two years ago I put the old paint mantel against the wall. It gives a bit of character. My heart stood still when I found it at a favorite shop. Someone painted the flowers, but the black paint is old and chippy. The gateleg table and Victorian folding chairs came in last fall when I needed a spot for my Italian exchange student to grab breakfast before school. Now that she is gone, the room seemed crowded. The old green roll-up shade was there when we bought the house almost thirty years ago. I think it held ten year's worth of dust.

     My biggest beef with the kitchen was a huge fluorescent  light that dominated the ceiling. It did give out great light, but it was full of dead bugs most days. I couldn't lift the cover off by myself, so night after night I looked up and saw bugs fly in to the light and fry.

Old ceiling light.

Other end of the kitchen. Ceiling fan was nice, but brass, I changed for one in chrome 

curtains and new ceiling light

new ceiling fan

The baker's table that got me in trouble! Sweet old robins egg blue paint chairs.

All came from Davis Street Antiques in Monroe, Ga.

      With limited funds, I opted to change the feel of the room with a new ceiling fixture and fan – both in chrome. I put in the faux tin ceiling tile backsplash behind the stove and across the back of the sink. My handyman took care of repairing the holes in the ceiling from the old fixture and then put up a new coat of crisp white paint. I plan to repaint the walls and doors white to make the room sparkle.

     The green shade came down, replaced with a Martha Stewart chrome curtain rod for under $30. My valance is a long curtain turned lengthwise. It came from the thrift store for $1.99. A matching valance is over the kitchen door.

     The light fixture and fan came in at about $60 each at Home Depot. The back splash under $30.

     My big splurge was the old baker's table with pale blueish-green paint and an old zinc top for $225 and two chippy old blue chairs that cost $39 for the pair. I think the room has an English cottage feel to it.

I rarely cook, but I love my old cottage furniture. You can tell where I put my dollars!   Below is my kitchen now. Still waiting a coat of cottage white paint.

  

OK, I Lied.

A display cupboard that followed me from shop to shop, and is now in Monroe at Hodge Podge Art, Antiques and Interiors. Don't ask me to sell it.

“I'm done buying furniture!”

Those words flew out of my mouth as I closed one of my antique booths a few weeks ago. I didn't want to deal with moving more furniture, so I sold below cost, and gave away many items. In less than twenty-four hours my space was empty. All handled with three phone calls. Another dealer even swept the booth floor for me after all was gone, as a thank you for her bargains. I never stepped into the shop, except to pick up the small old green washstand I wanted to bring home, after everything else was gone. The relief of not having to haul things again made sense to me. I lost money, sure, but I did have a check waiting for me the first of this month. Some of my dealer buddies who read this will laugh. They know me well. They know my crazy buying and selling habits

Been there, done that, got a T-shirt. I really should wear that shirt. This is how I've always done business. Good thing I had a full time job when I started this insanity I label 'antique dealer'.

Smalls have never interested me. I love old furniture. The bigger the better. (The disclaimer here, I am an art addict, we'll talk about that another day!)

Over the years I have bought my share of old wonderful cottage cupboards and tables. I've never sold one for profit. I cling to it until I have to let it go, then a dealer friend takes it from me, and I sigh watching it leave. Sometimes I'll buy it back, only to repeat the process.

Big old cupboards painted in soft colors; green, pink, blue, and white. Great farm tables in pastel colors. Old paint that crackled from age naturally, and when touched, small dried droplets flake to the floor, and smooth old paint that felt slick and cool, under the touch of your hand. I love them all.

Old paint. Pastel paint. Dark paint. Paint weathered over the years. Doesn't get any prettier in my book.

When I find a piece I love, I buy because I am smitten. I pay too much, if I mark it for sale at all, I price it to high. Then I work hard to find ways to keep it.

Two words helped me put off the inevitable. Display piece. That's a term that has cost me mega bucks. My shop in Lawrenceville (and before in Old Town, Lilburn) was full of old white cupboards, not for sale, but for display. They followed me to Monroe, and sit proudly in Hodge Podge Art, Antiques, and Interiors, surrounded by vintage clothes and stuffed with old western belts and purses. You won't find a price tag on them. Don't call to ask me how much? My answer is the same, for display only.

My house is full. My booth can't hold another cupboard. Like a drug, I swore off furniture. Regularly. For a few weeks. Maybe longer.

Then yesterday, I went to an art exhibit, but stopped into a shop I love that was right next door. One of their display pieces I've coveted for years, sported a price tag. A huge old white paint primitive cupboard. I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart rate flew into stroke pace. I am glad the cupboard was tucked in a back corner so no one saw me snatch the price tag off like it was free money in a street gutter.

It was full of charm, the paint chipped so perfectly. It was the type of farm cupboard that dreams are made of. Worn and friendly. Condition is shakey at best. It had been cobbled back together. One quirky corner was replaced on the backside. Two doors opened to reveal a few deep oversized shelves. I think it could hold a TV, if I tried. But I have a piece that I love for my TV. I didn't care. It was for sale.

Mine. Finally.

I trotted up to the front desk, flopped the tag down, and, knowing the shop policies, pulled out my check book, and spoke.

"Layaway, please."

I could have paid for it, but what would I do with it? There is no room at home...not yet.

"I'll get it next month. That way you don't have to unload it today."

The shop owner smiled as she wrote up my ticket. She knows my buying habits too well. I used to be a dealer in her shop a few years back. When I left, I left her half my booth.

I danced out the front door to meet a friend for dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant.

Seated in our booth, I ordered a Margarita.

"I've got to tell you about my new cupboard. Just put it on layaway!"

She shook her head as she laughed at me. “I thought you swore off large pieces of furniture."

I was about to pop a chip, dripping with salsa, into my mouth, but took a second to answer her silly statement.

"I lied!"

I know myself well, and this won't be the last time you hear me say that.