The fat man lives!

Well, I haven't froze to death yet. Not from any lack of cold, this winter is a pissuwah. It's been so cold I had to put the brass monkey in the porch. Progress is slow, because I have yet to hear from the people who were supposed to bring my propane barrel, and the people to upgrade the service enough to put an electric heater in!

I did go and get my Quincy rocker from the basement where I work, and brought back the kitchen table last time I went to my mammie's in New Ulm. The rocker has a pressed front, and vaguely mission-esque sides. The upholstery is shot to hell, but it's made it this long, a few more months won't be any problem.

The table is elm, with faux-oak grained legs and apron. I get kick out of it-it looks all little and tiny, with 5 great big fat legs, then you pull it open and it'll seat ten, twelve if they like each other. Leaves. 6 of them.

I have the matching sideboard at my mother's but it's not going anywhere for a little while.

I still like the oak centre pedestal table a little more, but this this sure a good runner up! It'll fit better in my kitchen. There is no counter space in there! None! The only counter is the thirty inches or so that are between the burners on the stove, and the drainboard on the sink. Since the glass fronted built-in takes up the whole west wall, the sink and windows the whole south wall, and the outside door and fridge the whole east wall, and the stove and dining room door the whole north wall, the only counter option is a table or island. I'm nowhere near to the point where I want an island, and Miss Andrea got along with a kitchen table for plenty of years, so I guess that's what I'll do. With the leaves all in, it takes up almost the whole kitchen.
And that's all the news as I know it. Mr Chompp wants it warm, so he can go out. Boo hoo! We all want something!