Old wins out every time!

The change of season (and a bad back!) has given me an excuse to spend some time on my computer…so this is my first post for an embarrassing 3 months.  My deepest apologies to those readers who have been waiting patiently as well as those who weren’t so patient and have specifically asked me when I will blog again!

On an uncomfortably hot day during this last hot summer, I decided to organise our winter bedding.  I emptied all of our blanket crates and stripped the beds.  Within half an hour I stood gazing at a mountain of doonas, blankets and throws that were piled high on the spare bed.

In truth it wasn’t that bad but any pile is utter anathema to a minimalist.

I got tough.

I decided that the old woollen queen doona had to go.  We had had it for at least 10 years and had stopped using it several years ago because it was too heavy on our leg at night.

I also decided that the 2 single doonas that had been cut from 1 queen doona had to go.  Fitting these ill fitting doonas into their doona covers had been a constant challenge for me.  In use, they had swum around inside their covers, gathering momentum, until our poor unsuspecting guests would wake cold and uncomfortable, their torsos weighed down by a lump and the rest of their bodies exposed.

Soon I had a nice little pile of bedding that any minimalist would be proud of.

But now I was faced with another issue: How would I store this bedding?  Could I discard some of the horrid plastic crates?

When we purchased this place 8 years ago, we had found a certain old tin chest hidden under various detritus in the shed.

I love all things old and I had decided that day that I would restore this treasure of history one day…but like many tasks here I never quite got around to it.  The distraction of all things garden and renovation is strong indeed.

Now I finally had the reason to restore the old tin chest!

It was huge and deep and all of the bedding could find a home in it but it had been exposed to the elements for many years and was dirty, dusty, worn and rusty.

Like a woman possessed, I started my long-promised restoration and, within a matter of days, I had managed to strip, sand and repaint it.  It’s not a thing of immense beauty but it is a thing of the precious past.

It is perfect on several levels: for the storage of bedding, for the character of the house and for the fact that I’ve now been able to donate several plastic crates to Stu…




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