I refinished it a number of times, and eventually just painted it black, but it was still a big, flat, clunky table, and I'm WAY too clumsy for large, low-to-the-ground furniture. I have the broken toes to prove it.
I thought about knocking it completely apart and actually building something out of the sides, but I gave up after realizing I could really only make...a big square table with it. (I've had a serious creativity cramp the last few months, around the house).
I dragged it out to the garage, removed the feet, the doors, and the center top piece that didn't open (why, exactly...?), and all the trim molding around the bottom edge.
|a good start|
Leave it, and claim that it was beautiful in its curbside-find simplicity? Paint it a bright, snazzy, eye-catching color? Nope, don't have any of those, don't feel like buying new paint for this. Touch up with more black? Nope, don't have any of that, either.
In the end I settled on using this
There! Waaay better than the ex-coffee table that used to sit in this corner, which was constantly piled with books and papers, and which invited A Very Bad Cat to sit on the scanner whenever the hell he felt like it. Something missing, though...
Now the top of the
|everything needs a plant on it (in my house)|
Vertical magazine and file organizers courtesy of Ikea. Five of them for two bucks. Aw, yeah.
* And, because I said that, I have to say this, because it's an odd pet peeve of mine: you don't really get tetanus from rusty metal. The condition of tetanus, aka lockjaw, (which is actually quite serious, by the way) is caused by any one of a number of tetanus bacteria, which are soil-borne, anaerobic bacteria, and which die when in contact with oxygen. A rusty nail buried in the ground? Sure, maybe (boots and gloves in the garden, people). A rusty nail sticking out of a table in your house? No way. Certainly not a clean sewing needle in a sewing machine, Dr. Guy Who Made Me Get That Horrible Shot For No Reason).