Pretty little violets all in a row

A year and a half ago, I purchased a lovely African violet at a yard sale. I enjoyed it so much that I got curious about starting new plants, so I called the seller and got educated, and then got excited.

I broke off three healthy leaves as far down their stems as I could and stuck them in compost (of course potting soil would work, but if you have a giant compost pile and not a stitch of potting soil, the choice is obvious to me!) I watered them about once a week and waited a long time.

Suddenly a baby leaf popped up! And then another and another! Such excitement. I could barely contain myself. Soon I had a bunch of baby violets that needed to be divided. Oh, what fun! I was off to the compost pile again, and then to the plastic recycle bin to pull out various tiny containers for the tiny plants. I found some baby food boxes and some single-serve applesauce cups. I also found a cute little ceramic thingie that I had picked up at Goodwill--the cute little kind of dish that I am always suckered into buying.

Look! How cute! Baby African violets basking in the sunshine. And wow! I cleaned my window for the year.
Since its leaves were looking yucky and yellowish, I also added fresh compost to the original violet, still in its original yogurt container because 1) deep down I am lazy, 2) even further down I am thrifty and 3) I am practical but enjoy redecorating--I can nestle the yogurt cup into other containers and have an instant change of scenery without dedicating a pretty bowl to growing a plant.

Scorched Oak

It's not a secret. My kitchen table isn't really "me," and it never has been. We got a great deal on it when a friend replaced her dining set. We were very glad to get rid of the flimsy glit-wood table and chairs we had been borrowing since we got married. The chairs had suffered long enough, and we had to reinforce at least one when it umm, flew off the back of Jason's truck while we were moving from our first house to our second. They were the type of chairs that create quick moves to the living room after a meal is finished, not lending themselves to lingering over courses. Of course, this would take the form of polite suggestion to our company, "There's no reason we can't move to the living room and be a little more comfortable!" or "Wouldn't you love to see our plaid couch?"


Back to the oak set with the press-back chairs. We decided to snatch up the bargain, since our dream table was still only a dream. And, we thought, while we have a house full of young children, we wanted a table that could take a beating without us cringing.

Last night, the table took a beating, or a scorching rather. I was in too big of a hurry to grab a potholder, and so I threw down the rather damp towel I had been using to wipe my hands. When I cleared the pizza stone from the table, I found this:
I should have thought of it. When my oven mitt is wet, heat from the oven goes right through it and my fingers get toasted.


So what do I do? Ignore? Add more scorch marks? Refinish? Paint? If paint, what color? It's an oak pedestal table with one extra leaf. The sides of the table have that oak leaf/acorn carving detail that serves as the perfect receptacle for all the smeary grime from little hands. And by the way, I have tried to care about this table. I even make Owen use a placemat when he plays with playdough!


On a happier note, my clematis is doing better this year than last: