One of the few pieces of furniture my husband brought into the joining of our households was a small, pressed-wood bookcase.  There is nothing particularly special about it, but because of its size and generic shape, it’s easily tucked into small spaces and closets, so we’ve held onto it throughout all our moves and attempts at refurnishing, despite it’s decrepit appearance.

These days it resides in our boys’ bedroom – a corner of our house known for all sorts of carpet stains, marked-up walls, and a healthy collection of items that have no business being under their beds, yet here is where its shabbiness finally stood out to me. For the last several months, I tried rearranging its contents or its location in the room – anything to bring back its anonymity so I could blissfully ignore it, at the same time benefiting from its quiet, reliable service. Then, in a fit of restlessness that demanded I accomplish something – anything – before going to bed, I dragged the bookcase into our living room and busted out the Mod Podge.

I used several faux maps and historic documents (remnants of a book we bought for our oldest son years ago), and created a sort of collage on the top, sides, and shelves, leaving some of the wood visible (a bit of nostalgia, perhaps?). The result surprised even me and I was tempted to move it into a more prominent location in our house. But, then, where would my boys hide their half eaten apples?