Grudge Match Round Two I drove home from Home Depot, the proud parent of an SUV filled with lumber.  I pulled into my driveway and hopped out with excitement and absolute conviction that I was going to finish my farmhouse table by the end of that day, or at the very least, by the end of the next day.  Mr. Old House Chic was out of town and I was free to finish my project with time to spare.  So, there would be no problem in getting this table done in one weekend. Right?  I mean, it’s just cutting a bunch of boards and screwing and gluing them together, right?

I pulled all of my lumber out of my car and hauled it happily past my pooch that watched me with interest.  “I’m making a farmhouse table!” I told Charlie, my rescue mutt that has been with me for more than 10 years.  Charlie knew me and what a loaded statement that was coming from me and huffed at my declaration.

Ana White, Farmhouse Table

Farmhouse Table Plans courtesy of Ana White.

I pulled out my printed project plan from and measured (and re-measured and measured again to make sure I got the measurements right) and finally marked my cuts.  I took the marked board to my saw and made the cut with confidence.  As an afterthought, I measured the length of the board, laughing at myself because of course I got it right.  The measurement was wrong by an inch…at least.  Seriously.  I gave the board a stern look, as if it moved the pencil measurement line while I wasn’t looking, and set it aside.  No worries, I told Charlie, I bought extra lumber.

Six boards and much cussing later, (while Charlie had gotten comfortable nearby to watch the show) I had six different lengths of table legs.  I stood staring at the legs.  I only needed four so I had to choose between bad and really bad.  I was supposed to be done by the end of the day and it was now noon.

I decided to change the plan.  It’s okay if you said uh oh.

I’ve done a lot of plan changing in my time and the most disastrous has been with recipes while cooking.  My meals would turn out so bad that poor Charlie wouldn’t even eat it and all of you dog lovers out there know that if a dog turns his nose up at anything edible, it’s certifiably b-a-d.  Well, following a plan for building a project from scratch- a table, chair, stool or cabinet- is a whole lot like a recipe.  This thought didn’t occur to me until I was knee deep in the quick sand of my project.

I managed to cut all of the table legs to the shortest measurement and moved on, thankful that I finally had four matching table legs.

Next up, glue and screw all of the table base and top pieces together.  No problem.

By 8 pm on Saturday night I had the crazy eyes of a totally invested and possessed woman determined to win this battle between my project and I.  I looked at my two separate table leg sets and table top all beautifully assembled and said, “Ha!”  I heard movement somewhere in the house and called out to Charlie, “We have table legs!  We have a table top!”  I heard an “Errr…” as an answer and knew that Charlie approved…or maybe it was hope that I would settle down and quit banging and sawing and cussing and finally let him get a much needed fifth nap of the day.

I was fairly certain my mutt would bare his teeth at me if I kept pursuing a conversation so I texted a friend to show off my project.  I had to show someone and Mr. Old House Chic was out of cell phone range.

I sent this picture:

Ana White, Country Living, Farmhouse Table

Farmhouse Table. Photo by Country Living and featured on

And got this response back:   “You made that?!  Wow!”

I quickly tapped out another text that said, “No, no, this is my table.”  I attached a picture of my set of table legs and sent it off.

Farmhouse Table Legs

“Oh…Hahaha” was the response I got back.

Ha!  Indeed. I felt like I had just been to war with my measuring tape all day long and was feeling like a warrior on a roll.  I was off and running again.

Farmhouse Table, Rescue Mutt

I went back to work only to find that Charlie had discovered my table top, located, conveniently, on the floor in the living room.  He was stretched out and snoring as only a sleep deprived pooch could.  I stepped towards him and he picked up his head to give me the evil eye and another, “Errr.”  I think he was telling me to wrap it up for the night…but…”Errrr!”  Fine!  Jeez…my dog and project were obviously on the same side.

Swing back by the Old House Chic Blog for Round Three of the Grudge Match: Me versus My Project.

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