4′ x 8′

Mr. Low-Man-on-the-Totem-Pole-Who’s-Tasked-with-Following-My-Little-Blog-and-Your-Little-Life has not shared with me, his employer, what large surface areas in your home look like. 

In my home, large surface areas which are not used for their intended purposes on a regular basis become large surface areas (LSAs). LSAs can hold a lot of stuff. Before I moved all of the stuff on this LSA to nearby LSA– to photograph the former LSA so I might sell it– it held gardening, sewing, crafting, and gun cleaning stuff.

It’s time for this LSA to go. 

Don’t get me wrong! When we first moved in, we did shoot some obstacle pool– and that was fun. And we have put it to use as a LS pattern cutting A and LS serving table. But we did that roughly four times each year. The pool table must go.

The more I thought about selling it, though, the less inclined I was to sell it. LSAs of slate can be turned into LSAs of dining table & whatnot. And my 2013-2014 project, which I’ve accepted, will eventually entail my finding a large table. So today I began the process of decommissioning the pool table, with the hope that it would be the basis for a large table.

First to go were the sides, exposing the pockets.

And then the rails or whatever they’re called.

Removing the felt took a long time. 

For my money, a deconstruction project is more intellectually challenging than a construction project. When constructing, you either have the tool or you don’t. To staple felt onto the wooden base under the slate, you need a stapler. Sure. If you didn’t have a stapler, you could try some little nails and a hammer. But you’d end up getting a stapler.  

The space of deconstruction is vastly larger. To remove the zillion staples, I tried a staple puller (fail) and a garden tool (fail). I was successful with a knife, a very small flat-head screwdriver, and a pair of needle-nosed pliers.

Humm. Not what I had envisioned.

I had envisioned a big giant hunk of slate.

It is 3/4″ thick.

And what I have is three small hunks of slate with a bunch of holes and six cutouts.

So. It’s too late to sell it as a pool table. 

I did note that there’s a sticker on the underside– says something about Italian Slate, Italian Fir. 

I’m confident that Daughter C can make something beautiful of these three pieces of slate that we’ll talk about for years to come.

“Who remembers when this _______ was but a lowly pool table in the bunkhouse?”

 And now… Daughter C. It’s all yours!