A True Handy Lady’s Tale

It was a very hot January Saturday afternoon. Too hot to enjoy the outdoors and yet the indoor humidity also drove me restless. I was tired of my room always being a mess, so I started browsing the internet for some ideas. Then, I saw this undercover beauty and it was as if it was speaking to me.

I contacted the seller and before I knew it, it was mine. I couldn’t wait for the wardrobe to be delivered so I can just start renovating it. Monday came and went with no wardrobe. Finally on Tuesday morning, it was delivered. The anticipation didn’t end there, I had to suffer through what felt like the longest work day ever. Finally, workday was over so I grabbed everything and rushed home as quickly as I could.

Enthusiastically I start sanding the wardrobe, if I can manage to sand a little every day after work, by the end of the weekend I can be finished. Boy, was I wrong! After the first half an hour the enthusiasm started to fade and suddenly this wood sanding was standing in front of me like a mountain. I need to add, I don’t have that fancy wood-sanding machine thing that does all the work for you. Nope, I had to do it the old fashioned way with sandpaper in the hand.

At that stage, I didn’t have my music on my phone so I couldn’t even pop in my earphones while I was busy. So I just couldn’t help it, my mind started to drift. I thought of an old soapy I used to watch with my Grandmother, Days of our Lives, the intro would start with this voice saying: “Like sand through the hour glass, so are the days of our lives.”

I thought to myself: No, like old wardrobes under sanding paper. Like everything in life we are constantly going through a moulding process. Pain and suffering leaves scars. My wardrobe was neglected by the previous owners and it had its own scars deep into its wood. So my poor wardrobe has withered away and had to go through the same process of renewal.

I even had conversations in my mind with Doc. As he is constantly teasing me about handyman work. I could hear him as clear as if he was there: “No, you are doing it wrong, you have to do it like this.”

The next morning I could feel that I was doing some hard labour instead of sitting behind a desk the whole day. My arms was sore, it felt like too much effort just to lift them, my writs ached. When it was time to start I could feel my spirits dropping below sea level.

Suddenly, it was as if I was back in college. Sitting in Massage Practical, I could hear my lecturer’s voice, as clear as day: “Don’t use your hands only, your arms, wrists and hands will never make it. Use the motion of your body. That way you are able to apply more pressure with less effort.’ And trues bob, the next thing I noticed, I was standing in massage stance, rocking from side to side. Using my body’s rhythm. Who knew Beauty College would aid in Woodwork.

By Friday, I was very negative. I have been sanding from Tuesday and still not even the first door was done. I thought to myself I am going to leave this, I am done, I will put the half sanded wardrobe in my room just like that. Luckily, I had to meet a friend after work and I told him about my project. I told him. I am done, I don’t want to do this anymore. My thumb is close to having blisters. He asked me to show him the pictures and so on. Then he said: “If you sand like that, you are going to sand until you are blue in the face.” I did not think he was funny, I had to endure comments like I am going to be sanding the wardrobe until Christmas from my Landlady already that whole week.

And then he dropped the bomb that made me want to jump up and shout with arms in the air. He has an Electric Sanding Machine thingy and I can borrow it. We quickly made arrangement so I could fetch the sander and we went our separate ways home.

Saturday afternoon arrived, time to go fetch the sander. It was quite late already so I didn’t have much daylight left, at the end of the day after I sanded until it was dark, I did more progress than the whole week. Just in a few short hours.

Sunday morning came, and faithfully I put my old, by then filthy with wood dust, clothes back on and started again. By lunch time I finished the whole wardrobe with the coarser sanding paper, so I allowed myself a well- deserved rest.

Monday, I only had to go over with the fine sanding paper to make sure everything is nice and smooth. Now, I have to mention that I was working against time as well. We did not have rain for a couple of weeks and I knew I had to finish before it comes. I do not want the wood to be water damaged after all that hard work. Nevertheless, by the weekend I was completely done, varnished and everything.

So after this whole affair, my wardrobe was done with the shaping and moulding process, its underlying beauty shining through to the surface. I look at it and I realise it was worth it.

I present to you, my newly renovated antique wardrobe (with aching arms and wrists).