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So today I figured I would start on refinishing one of the three pieces my in-laws brought me for my daughter’s room. It was a wonderful thought, really. My mother-in-law and I were talking about how my daughter’s bookshelf was falling apart (given that it is 7 years old and was a $50 bargain at Wal-Mart). I told her that I wanted to go old and sturdy this time around. Maybe hit antique stores and see if I can find one that had been fixed up but was still pretty inexpensive. As a surprise, they showed up with 2 small bookcases and a desk that belonged to an old family friend.
She told me that she thought I could sand them and paint them and they would look great in The Girl’s room. I agreed they were great pieces. Little did I know that one would prove to be a very worthy foe.
Well, all was quiet until today when I decided that I needed to start working on them.
I bought a sander all by myself. That is right. I bought it and I even lived on the wild side and did not read all sorts of consumer reports reviews first (unlike The Husband who would have been much less impulsive). The husband approved of the purchase though, since it was the same brand of power tools he already has. The problem with the sander was that this book shelf had all these little intricate parts, that the sander could not get to. So, I got some stripper and thought I could just strip the areas the sander could not reach. Thus, my day began with sanding and then I put the stripper on to set while I made lunch and did the dishes (because I am a pro at multi-tasking).
I came back out and the stripper was finished and I proceed to get the stripper off. Honestly, I think I could have learned to be a world-renowned stripper (if there is one), before I could have gotten all the stripper off of the few small areas I applied it to. I used the stripping tool at first but there were still some areas that it could not reach. So, I got some paper towels and proceeded to try to wipe it and scrape it off. I lost patience with that rather quickly, so I caught sight of my hose. Hmmm.
I carried the shelf to my driveway and decided that I could just power-wash it off (of course, my power wash consisted of my thumb over the nozzle of the hose). The stripper still did not budge. So then I thought water, scrubber, and stripping tool together would be no match for this stuff. It gave a good fight and in the end, I won. Of course, it is still a bit rough and the stripper still has a good hold on some small areas, but I figure when it dries I will proceed to just sand it off. If that does not work, I think I will go make another impulse purchase and get a power washer that will blast that stuff off of thing. I mean when the going gets tough, the tough get bigger, stronger power tools, right?
It still makes me think…
This bookcase has to be my arch–nemesis. It has powers that are beyond other bookcases.

If refinishing furniture is this painful, then people would not do it. People would not find pleasure in this type of hobby, right?
Of course, other people may have actually done research on how to do it. They could have asked for help and advice. They might have gone about doing it with a plan that consisted of more than
1. Sand it. If that doesn’t work, then strip it
3. Paint it.

No, that can’t be it.
It is just an evil book shelf.