Recently I learned that sometimes the first crafty instinct isn’t necessarily the best one.
We have a sweet little vintage desk, which is part of a hand-me-down set of ’50s-era furniture we received when we moved into our house. It’s compact and classic, and it’s lived in so many different spots — from the entryway to the living room to both kids’ bedrooms.
When we re-did our daughter’s bedroom last winter and built a massive loft bed, we moved the poor ol’ vintage desk down to my office since she no longer had room for it. (Also, she was just filling the drawers with broken toys and other garbage. Sigh.)
In its new home, in my tiny basement office, it held my serger and the drawers were filled with extra bobbins and cross-stitch canvas. So many times I almost painted the whole thing a fun, bright colour — fuchsia, maybe, or tangerine — but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know what stopped me, exactly. I just knew I hadn’t come up with the right idea for that perfectly vintage desk.
It turned out I was smart to wait …