Here it is in all its converted loft bed and 40 year old oak goodness.
The top has just been treated with a vegetable oil diluted down with some white spirit, then rubbed and rubbed and rubbed with some cotton and elbow grease.
We had to bring it in, legs first through the door, then the top through the window, once the legs were screwed to the top we could manouver it around the kitchen a bit to find the best spot.
At the same time, Christalina got a sprucing up too - Christalina being the 50s fridge in the corner. She was yellow until yesterday, and now she is pretty in pink. She came from the basement of a friend's house, but didn't work, so her innards were robbed from another fridge Brendan found in the tip, and managed to squeeze into Christalina, then she got a paint job and moved in. Because her innards come from a bigger fridge than her original design, she tends to move around a little, making the bottles inside her tinkle when the motor kicks in. Hence we consider her to be a presence in the kitchen and she got a name. (Obviously she is a proper fridge - full of bottles of booze, cherries for my martinis, some olives for gin and tonics, and a couple of bits of cheese and bars of chocolate - no room for anything else).
I think the table is perfect, and Brendan has done a great job. Hard to see the scale here but with six chairs easily tucked in you should be able to work out that it is pretty big, 240 cm length (ish) and 110 cm wide (ish), only ish because they are not straight lines but wibbly wobbly following the line of the bark.
And today was our first BBQ of the year, chicken legs and salad!