There it was laying in the glistening sunshine at an outdoor antique fair. An antique runner that I knew I couldn't live without. It was a whopping 18 feet long. Incredible! The dealer had laid it out in front of his booth proudly displaying the vibrant colors. The price was fair, perhaps in part because we knew the dealer, and it was lovingly rolled up and taken home with us.
It served it's purpose for many years, laying in between the livingroom and kitchen. It is the main drag in our home so it saved a lot of foot (and paw) traffic off of the hardwood floor.
When we changed our decor this past Spring, the runner no longer fit in. Because my Mom was working at an flea market, I brought the rug to her house and asked her to add it to her booth whenever she had space.
Here is where the trouble starts. Can you feel it?
My father (and I say that holding the rrrrr) decided one day that he needed a little carpet is his hangar where he keeps his plane.
A little carpet.
Near his plane.
Why, I do not know.
Knowing my mother likes to hoard stuff (sorry, Mom) and not quite up to snuff on his knowledge of antiques, my father, alone one day, found the rug and decided it would be perfect for his little project. So, out came the scissors and he cut that baby like it was, well, a rug.
My mother was of course mortified, but my father, still oblivious to this "old rug" called to tell me the news. Which by the way, he thought was quite funny-- until I regained my composure and told him just how much that "old rug" cost.
Let's just say the conversation didn't end well - something with me grumbling "I have to go scream into a pillow now - goodbye..."
We both laugh about it now. I soon got over myself - and the rug - and told him he has one 'snazzy' hangar. Which by the way, I haven't been to see since he dressed it up- the photo above was taken 'before' his flair for decorating old hangars emerged.
I think he may have a future in it in fact. After all, there's still some 12' left of runner left to work with... ;)