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the furniture is (mostly) here

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Mixed news today on our attempts at getting ourselves settled.

We'd bought some furniture from a shop on Bloor street, and the stuff was finally available for delivery today. It's all made locally, looks decent enough, and even matches the antique dining table we were given by my uncle and aunt.

But when it arrived, I noticed immediately (somehow) that someone had written on the side of the coffee table in ball point pen and that with the finish it was quite a bright marring of the surface. Not large, but noticeable.

I pointed it out to the store manager (who, thankfully, was helping with the delivery) and he told us that he'd take it back. Thinking about it a bit, he then offered us a $50 refund if we kept it and tried to fix it ourselves. I opted for that, thinking of my Dremel. Then I noticed that the underside of the bed had taken a hit at some point and was slightly cracked. We agreed that it was superficial and that it wouldn't damage the looks (being under the bed) or the strength of the thing.

Then I went to assemble the bed, and there were only two barrel nuts of the expected ten. So we slept with the mattress on the floor and the bits of bed stacked around us.