My husband and I needed some kitchen cabinetry to fill a big empty spot in the kitchen of our new home, primarily to provide more storage space. We spent ages searching for the perfect solution that would fit seamlessly into the design. We looked at different options for functionality, size and finish. We checked out all the fresh new modern design elements we could incorporate to add a bit of personality, a bit of us, into the room.

Nothing fit the bill, or if it did in some way, just didn’t feel right for us.

So, we started looking online for used kitchen furniture and cabinets that may do the trick. Nothing there either! The amount of time we spent researching, we could have re-built the entire kitchen!

As I was scrolling through thousands of ugly pieces that would not work for us at all, I got bored, side-tracked and started looking at other things – as you do. The algorithms got me big time! However, in this instance, I’m delighted they did.

Finally, I stumbled across an old, weathered, unloved and unappreciated timber piece that was just crying out for someone to love it and see its potential. I did! Fingers crossed, my husband would too.

When I first showed it to him, he really wasn’t sure it would be right for us, it needed so much work to be half-way decent, and he wondered if it was the “look” we wanted for our home.

After more conversations and visualisation, dreaming and throwing out preconceived ideas, we decided it was the piece for us! We could both picture exactly what we wanted it to be in our home, and it was perfect.

So, for the bargain price of $120, a borrowed trailer and a three-hour round trip, we picked it up, brought it home and put it in the garage – where it stayed for a couple of months. 

Every few days we would go in, look at it, touch it, open the doors, and talk about how we’d make it our own now that we could see it in the “flesh”. 

It was like bringing home a beautiful stranger. 

We both wanted it there, we were both excited about how fabulous it was going to be for us, but we needed to get to know it before we just jumped in and started ripping it apart and modifying it too heavily.

I’m so glad we spent that time. After getting to know her, our choice of colour and finish is different from what we had first imagined. We have now created a beautiful, handcrafted piece of furniture, so removed from our original searches and pre-conceived ideas. 

Instead, we have a custom piece that has been loved back to life. 

With every coat of varnish my husband sanded off, a more unique and beautiful surface was revealed. 

With each brush of undercoat and paint, a new personality was revealed. I was constantly lured to the garage with cries of excitement from my husband “Baby, you HAVE to come and look at this!”

Before our eyes, she grew more and more beautiful, and more a part of our family. It was an old, ugly duckling coming to a renewed, vigorous life.

As I scrubbed and scrubbed the hardware, trying to see what was underneath 50 years of dirt and grime, a miracle appeared in the palms of my hands. Eventually, after many attempts to remove the grunge, a little shine of brass poked its beautiful head for me to gaze upon. I excitedly scrubbed harder, determined to get it back to its original glorious golden lustre. I almost did for the first handle, but then the strangest thing. I felt a wave of regret that I had pared back too much of the history from this little handle. So, for the remaining screws, hinges, and handles, I was more delicate, more particular about where to rub hard and where to allow the history to share its story.

The end result? Instead of wanting to spray paint the hardware black, which was the original look we wanted, we decided to keep these glorious glimpses into the past, clean and imperfect. The dirt and grime were most definitely washed away over my hands, wrinkled from all the scrubbing, down the drain, leaving behind imperfect perfection. A soft link between the hardware’s old life and the new one before it.

We will never know our new cabinets story, but we know it has one, and we have welcomed this old stranger into our lives, given it a new purpose, and loved it back to life. It sits perfectly now, in our kitchen, adding warmth, functionality, personality and a touch of nostalgia to an otherwise sterile room.

And we couldn’t be happier! Oh, and my husband did an AWESOME job of painting her.

It makes me think of a line from the movie Seabiscuit (one of my favourites and one you MUST watch if you haven’t already): 

“You don’t throw a whole life away just because it’s banged up a little.”

How many things can this apply to? A plethora! Things (like our furniture), animals, ideas, love, and people, most definitely people! 

All of these things have stories to tell. 

After all, isn’t life one big, enormous story made up of billions of little stories?

We are influenced by all the “new” things surrounding us. New technology, gadgets, building ideas, cars, fashion, and whatever anyone presents as the new “big thing”!

For me, I prefer a little retro, a little of the sentimental. Things that are well-loved and rough around the edges from years of use or handed down from someone I love or admire, things with history and a story to tell – be them people, things or ideas. That, for me, is beautiful and far more interesting.

These things, often discarded, are the sumptuously rich patina of life!

For writers, the stories we create that don’t see the light of day, the ideas that crowd our notebooks and minds. Some poor stories that are only half-written and abandoned, because, well, they’re too banged up! 

Those are the things we should love back to life! Those rough sentences and disjointed volumes that when re-read and re-worked transform into something very special. Even if the work itself is not enough for a work of its own, it can most likely contribute to something outstanding or become the beginning of a totally different idea.

So, writers, don’t throw away your old, beat-up ramblings. Love them back to life and make them into your very own, custom piece of wonderful. If you’re not sure how, get an editor, take a writing course, do some research, feel your way! 

As in the words of Tom from Seabiscuit:

“You don’t throw a whole life away just because it’s banged up a little.”

Happy writing,

Samantha xx