Updating Grandpa's step stool
My mother doesn't know how old it is. We can only say with certainty that it's at least in its sixties going from the photo of my cousin sitting on it one long ago Christmas dinner. It has just always being there.
I remember it in white and gold at my grandparents' house. Then grey-green and now this light green, always painted to match a kitchen. Years ago, I watched as the pieces of linoleum flooring were cut and glued to its steps.
I get a kick out of the design. Someone told me that step stools like this were typical on the Canadian east coast. Makes sense, since grandpa was from there. Looking at the bevelled edges of the steps I wonder if it's as we guess, that it was made from reclaimed wood. My grandpa, a finishing carpenter and cabinet maker, had been hired to disassemble an old oak church organ in Toronto. Pieces of it made it into several of his projects. What do you think? Those fancy edges don't look like they started out on a simple handle made stool. You can also see by the elegant curves that he used a scroll saw.
The step stool sat in my kitchen for awhile before I finally painted it. And then, since it's a convenient spot for someone to sit while I'm cooking, I thought maybe I would add some padding to the seat.
At the local fabric store, the only matching fabric I loved was in a pre-made cushion cover on sale for $4. So I bought that, pulled it apart, and remade it into this little cushion that straps on and closes with velcro. It still looks like I should add more padding.
Images
Photos from the iPad of @kansuze.
@kansuze
What a treasure!
Old furniture, with layers upon layers of paint, has the best energy. My grandmother has 100 year old rockers on her porch. I touch them and just think of all the people that sat in them. You must inadvertantly think of your grandpa when you climb on it.
I think of being in college and stopping at my grandmother's house on my long drive home. Sometimes I bumped into an aunt and uncle visiting her, and as her kitchen table was pushed against the wall, there was only room for 3 so I always sat on the stool. Then the teapot came out.
And I can't remember whether it was my grandpa or my uncle who put the linoleum on its steps.
What a lovely memory.