bound for the curb

Some used furniture I'm leaving at the curb tonight. Read about where everything came from and how I decided to get rid of it all on my professinal organizing blog, here.

black creek pioneer village

I visited Black Creek Pioneer Village (Toronto) in the summer of 2008. I love recreated colonial villages because they're full of the stuff I like to have in my own home: natural wood and fabrics, cast iron, worn surfaces...

I took a million photos that day, but have only included my favorites here. Above is a shot of a wall in the tinsmith's shop. I love the intricate patterns they could make with only a few tools.

Below are some brooms from the broom maker's shop. I bought a cobweb broom in the gift shop before I left, and it hangs in my front room today.


Below is a chandelier from a Mennonite meeting house. I love its simple lines.


The meeting house itself was really spare. I'm not sure if it's an authentic representation of what the space would have looked like when it was being used for worship services.


Below is a tool shed, with plants hanging to dry from the rafters.


A cart in the tool shed.


Another chandelier, this one from the town hall.

The interior of the town hall. I love the colours.


A quilt in one of the homes.


Irons sitting on the stovetop.


A rusty wash basin full of water.


The weaver's shop.


The dining room in the doctor's house.


A shamrock sitting in the window.


One of the many photographs of chairs that I took that day. I also love the colour of the painted floorboards.


A cutting board for bread.


The cobbler's shop.


Rocking horse.


I love the rush seats in the next couple of chairs.




A simple table. Look how wide the boards are.


Another table.


Whimsical "creature" on a windowsill.


Tools inside the mill.


I love how deep the window sills are.


One of the mill doors, studded with nails.


A discarded mill wheel.


I really liked the exterior of this little house. Very simple.


Berries drying in a window.


Dried flowers in a bowl.


I absolutely love the colours in this quilt.


Another bed in the same house.


And yet another bed...


Another chair...


A basket of toys on a porch.


Fleece waiting to be carded.


Sunshine on another basket of fleece.


Inside a barn.


Check out the massive beams.

orange crate side table

I have no idea if this is really an orange crate. It's definitely some kind of crate. When my brother and sister and I were little, my dad took this crate, turned it on its end and added a couple of shelves. Then my mom painted it mint green and drew electric stove elements on the "top" with black magic marker. Presto magicko, it became a toy stove for us to play with.

Years later as a teenager I painted it white, and it's been used as some sort of furniture ever since - whether on its end as a shelf, or on its side (above) as an occasional table. As I write this, it's now part of my wall o' shelves.

good-bye chairs

My name is Michelle Lynne Goodfellow, and I have a chair fetish. Well, probably not. That is - if fetishes have anything to do with sex. Although... never mind.

But anyhow... I have a chair addiction, I guess. I can't stop buying chairs. And recently I've decided I need to get rid of some of my stuff, and the obvious place to start (because I have so many of them) seems to be there.

Above are two cream-coloured kitchen chairs I got from my local Goodwill back in the fall. I love the way they look - they were perfect in my kitchen when I brought them home - but they really aren't in great shape. A male guest sat in one of them for about an hour one night... and he experienced rung fail.

So I decided to put them out on Sunday afternoon (the day before garbage day this week; London's garbage pick-up rotates on a six-day schedule), and before I carried them to the road, I took these pictures. Also decided to get rid of another chair... but more on that in a minute.


I loved the way the late afternoon sunlight diffused as it sifted through the air of my front room.








These chairs had some of my favorite features, including rough undersides and amateur repairs.




I love the brushmarks of paint on the underside of the seat.










Natural patina...






One of my own botched repair jobs - after one of the cats knocked the chair over and broke a rung outright.


Loose joints...




So below is the other chair - one that a Toronto friend of mine found at the side of the road in Riverdale. I loved the bones of this mid-20th century teak chair so much that I took it home, even though the seat was a mess.


I painstakingly pulled up an old upholstery job, and cut away the original caning on the seat. All the upholsterer's tacks gashed my knuckles as I spent hours trying to pull them up too.




Actually, on second thought I think the wood is beech. But what do I know?


In the end I gave up and replaced the seat with some old plywood boards, cut to size. (Not seen here.) If I didn't have a dearth of space, I'd probably keep this chair around just for the beauty of its worn edges...