For the past two weeks my life has been consumed with a battle.
The battle to prepare the house for our big move. First up on the agenda:
remove a heat/water stain on my dining room table.
Last winter I became sick when I placed a hot, right out of the dishwasher dish onto the table and then found it left a round water stain. We bought the table in Germany from an antique dealer right after Evan was born. The German sales lady informed us it was originally owned by a Jewish family that lived in the area and owned a furniture business. In the 40s they left the table behind due to "an unfortunate event", German code for Holocaust. Another family took possession of the table fully expecting to eventually return it to its rightful owner.
But that never happened. True to the unspoken German rule that the Holocaust should never, ever be mentioned in public, much less with a idealistic American couple living on a local military installation, the German lady never explained exactly why.
I was distraught with the stain, but I was even more distraught at the thought of paying someone, big bucks no doubt, to refinish my table. That is when my grandmother suggested mayonaise.
When I came home with an industrial sized bottle of Hellmans, Wes became sick with disgust, but when I explained the situation and the nontraditional use of fat, he was the first to give it a try.
Just prior to sticking all four fingers into the jar for a handful of greasy sandwich spread, I suggested the more appropriate use of a spoon. (I take full credit for that suggestion. Sometimes it hurts to be this smart.) Wes spread it evenly and into a perfect circle, and then let it sit for hours. And I couldn't believe that after several applications, the stain faded.
Forget chicken salad and ham sandwiches. We "bring out the best" in our house on Keagan's morning waffles and with our inexpensive home repairs.
Move over Vern Yip. I believe your job is in jeopardy. The Tooles have a whole new make-over for the traditional sandwich spread.
Last winter I became sick when I placed a hot, right out of the dishwasher dish onto the table and then found it left a round water stain. We bought the table in Germany from an antique dealer right after Evan was born. The German sales lady informed us it was originally owned by a Jewish family that lived in the area and owned a furniture business. In the 40s they left the table behind due to "an unfortunate event", German code for Holocaust. Another family took possession of the table fully expecting to eventually return it to its rightful owner.
But that never happened. True to the unspoken German rule that the Holocaust should never, ever be mentioned in public, much less with a idealistic American couple living on a local military installation, the German lady never explained exactly why.
I was distraught with the stain, but I was even more distraught at the thought of paying someone, big bucks no doubt, to refinish my table. That is when my grandmother suggested mayonaise.
When I came home with an industrial sized bottle of Hellmans, Wes became sick with disgust, but when I explained the situation and the nontraditional use of fat, he was the first to give it a try.
Just prior to sticking all four fingers into the jar for a handful of greasy sandwich spread, I suggested the more appropriate use of a spoon. (I take full credit for that suggestion. Sometimes it hurts to be this smart.) Wes spread it evenly and into a perfect circle, and then let it sit for hours. And I couldn't believe that after several applications, the stain faded.
Forget chicken salad and ham sandwiches. We "bring out the best" in our house on Keagan's morning waffles and with our inexpensive home repairs.
Move over Vern Yip. I believe your job is in jeopardy. The Tooles have a whole new make-over for the traditional sandwich spread.
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