Turning the table

Today was all about a table. A big oak table to be exact. It has enough wood in it to make up a rather sturdy tree. And it weighs as much as one.

The company we bought it from were very good letting me know when it would arrive. I was advised all the way. Right down to the fact that it would arrive today, some time between the hours of 7am and 3pm.

My first thought at reading this was that I’d be ready at 7am and they’d end up arriving at 2:30pm. But I’m not the sort of person who takes those kind of risks. I was up at 6:30am, drinking my coffee and listening to Radio 4.

At 7am, my phone rang. It was the delivery guys. They’d be with me in 20 minutes.

20 minutes later (having washed and dressed) I was greeted at the front door by two of the most cheerful delivery guys I’ve ever opened it to. And they spent a fair bit of fussing time over Emma.

Actually, if Emma ever goes missing, I’m going to look first at DHL. A delivery woman this afternoon (delivering a parcel for Mirinda) took quite a fancy to her. She wanted to know every detail about her. I held on to little Emma quite tightly. The woman was a bit intense. And she ignored Day-z. But that was in the afternoon.

The two table delivery guys heaved two enormous boxes into the extension and, grins all over their faces, bid me a happy day. This was the first time I realised I’d actually have to put the table together.

The actual construction was simple enough. Put the legs together then bolt them to the underside of the table. Fortunately the delivery guys had laid the table top upside down because I would never have managed to turn it over.

The putting together took about half an hour. Turning the table over, however, took considerably longer.

The main problem (apart from the fact that it was extremely heavy) was that I couldn’t get my hands underneath it. For some reason, my brain suddenly dragged up my experiences in Experimental Archaeology. I found this slightly annoying until I figured out what my brain was on about. It was a non-dimmable light bulb moment.

Using bits of thin wood, left over from the build and still littering the Front Room, I gradually built up two corners, eventually managing to get them high enough to slip my hands underneath. I could lift the table about two inches. Irritated, I sat down and watched it for a bit.

Having rested my muscles long enough and without thinking, I charged at it and just lifted. Suddenly it was sitting on it’s side. I sat back down for a bit.

Using the same method, I built up the two corners again and tried to turn it onto the legs. Again I was struck down by lack of strength. I knew I had to repeat my earlier success in time to Skype with mum and dad so I sat and observed the task for a bit.

I once more applied the sudden, surprise attack and just heaved the table over. SUCCESS!

I fiddled around with it, working out how to extend it to seat ten then returning it to a four seater. It’s very easy. And, most important of all, it is utterly beautiful.

Needs a few more chairs!