So I took a chalk-paint class.

Easily one of the greatest things about moving into a farmhouse is all of the items that collect on the farm over the years that give you a glimpse of history of the house.

When we moved into this house two years ago, we found a garage full of furniture that varied from OMG LIGHT THAT ON FIRE (I’m talking to you, yellow shag couch and favorite birthing place for barn kittens), to these incredibly made wooden pieces ranging in age from 20-the better part of 70 years old. A family had dinner at the table that was collecting dust in the corner, a daughter used the dresser drawers that were chipped with memories. That giant desk that I’ll never be able to move by myself once witnessed the most important financial decisions of farming.

& so, in an effort to keep these pieces part of the farm they’d always been part of, I started looking into do-it-yourself projects both online and in local antique shops and farmhouses. I fell in love with the idea of up-cycling old memories into new ones.

In a desperate need for a girls-night-out and a final kick in the pants to start tackling that pile of furniture, I took a chalk-painting class with some of my favorite girls this week.

Two things happened:
1. Immediate relief that it’s both affordable, and hardly ever requires sanding. Because sanding actually terrifies me a little.
2. Instant overwhelming feelings of where and how to start.

I went home and dug through my garage and found the one piece I had been debating just wasting, dumstering, getting rid of; this formica-on-wheels kitchen cart…which oddly, was all of thigh-high on my 5’9 frame, and absolutely useless in my kitchen where the guy who does all of the cutting and counter-space using is well over 6 feet tall.


I chose two Annie Sloan chalk-paints, and left my new favorite local shop to support assured it could live outside and only “become more rustic”, and got to work.

We spray painted the bottom, and I did a small coat around the edges with the red, because I thought I’d do some fancy sanding.


Turns out you can’t really sand formica? Thus confirming formica is about as useful and cute as a cowlick. Also, yes, that’s the couch I need to burn, and the pile of countless opportunities nested therein.

It quickly turned into a family affair. It was somewhere between falling in love with the duck-egg blue color and half a glass of wine, met with the company of my two girls and the new Imagine Dragons album that I realized that this was the best therapy I had ever paid for. And, for being my first project AND formica, our new side table for outside beverages and good ol’ family fun turned out just fine. I’m welcoming this new addiction with arms wide open.


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