Tall Clover Chronicles: Confessions of an Unbalanced Force
And so, the laws of physics win again.
In my last installment of the Tall Clover Chronicles: Boz Takes the Cake, my four-legged friend and beau to Gracie, taught me a lesson in physics and dessert placement.
One would think my table toppling days would be over after that incident, but nooooo…Sir Issac Newton had one more lesson to share: If an object is at rest, it will remain at rest unless an unbalanced force acts upon it. (Say hello to the unbalanced force.)
At a summer estate sale, I found a wonderfully sweet table for a sweet price. Granted it needed refinishing, the top was unattached and there was a definite wobble factor inherent in its ambitious design, but it spoke to me nonetheless–from elegant scroll feet, to solid walnut top, to stunning pedestal (a trapezoidal tour de force if you ask me). Yep, I was smitten and ready to give this American Empire mutt a new home and a little rehabilitation.
Days went by, and I basked in the beauty of my 100-year old find with its quirky tilt and potential for polish. I set up the table temporarily, if not haphazardly, in my kitchen nook to try it on for size. Being a man who never met a surface he didn’t want to cover, I naturally burdened the poor thing with several weeks of treasure hunting, magazine and booking piling, and good old general kitchen clutter. Much like the straw that broke the camel’s back, a bag of groceries brought the old drop-leaf (and everything atop it) down in a cascade of crashes, with serious causalities coming from a clutch of glass and crystal vases. (No dogs or homeowners were injured.)
Between self-inflicted tongue-lashings and cleaning up the mess, I decided there was no time like the present to level and bolt the tabletop to the base. Barely 15 minutes later, the table was stable (me, not so much), and I shook my head thinking how many lessons must a fellow learned?
While I fear the answer is as many as it takes, I don’t wish to muddy my head with too much thinking here; one maxim per mishap is best for this simple thinker.
So what shall it be… Don’t put off tomorrow what you can do today?
Nah, perhaps something a little less overbearing like…Don’t cry over spilled milk (or broken vases).