Very Narrow Console Table - Round Folding Tables And Chairs - Glass Dining Table And Chairs.
Very Narrow Console Table
- a small table fixed to a wall or designed to stand against a wall
- (Console Tables) Tables made for fixing against a wall and having no legs at the back. They came into fashion early in the eighteenth century, and were made often in pairs.
- A table meant to be displayed against a wall. It may be attached to the wall with only two front legs or freestanding on four legs.
- A table supported by ornamented brackets, either movable or fixed against a wall
- a narrow strait connecting two bodies of water
- not wide; "a narrow bridge"; "a narrow line across the page"
- make or become more narrow or restricted; "The selection was narrowed"; "The road narrowed"
- A narrow channel connecting two larger areas of water
very narrow console table - Bush Furniture
Bush Furniture Sonoma Small TV Stand, Mocha Cherry Veneer
The Sonoma Collection, with its attractive tapered legs, decorative edge profiles, and rich Mocha Cherry Veneer finish, features versatile products for the high tech home where technologies converge.
From the furniture-style Sonoma collection, this handsome video base accommodates most 27-inch conventional TVs (up to 95 pounds) and most 37-inch flat-panel TVS (up to 75 pounds), plus peripherals and accessories. The upper cabinet features an adjustable shelf behind framed tempered-glass doors to keep components dust free, and the wide bottom drawer neatly stows DVDs, games, and remote controls. For inconspicuous wire management, there are strategically placed cutouts in the back panel. Finished in a deep Mocha Cherry veneer with square, silver-toned drawer pulls and slender legs, Sonoma has a classic look that is both comfortable and crisp. The video base measures 31-6/8 inches wide by 20 inches deep by 31 inches high--perfect in a bedroom or small living area--and has been tested for tip-free safety. Assembly is required, and instructions and a toll-free customer help line are included. Six-year warranty. --Kara Karll
"Do you want to go for a walk after dinner?" he said. "Sure, why not?" she said. "We should be able to catch a glimpse of the solar flare.” "I'd completely forgot. What day is it today?” "I don't know exactly, it's been a while since I paid attention. It could be..., what do they call it, Wednesday?” He pushed himself away from the table, the wooden chair floated with him. He drifted over to the computer console on the otherside of the room. “It's Sunday actually.” The space station hung in orbit around the planetary body. When they looked at the screen of monitors, storms were migrating from crater to crater. They far from the sun. Besides the rise in temperature when they drifted in direct view of it, they were unaffected. After dinner, they suited up in the exit room. "Can you check me over?" he said. "Sure...everything looks good. How's mine?" she said. "Looks good too." He tugged the cable that connected the two of them together. "Everything good?" "Yeah." There was a hiss as the rotational hum that was apart of the room came to a stop. As it slowed down, they started to float upwards, their feet centimeters above the floor. He turned door latch and listened to it hiss. When it opened, he let the change in pressure pull him outwards, it was a beckoning and their bodies made their way into the vacuum on their own intuition. He grabbed onto a hand hold just outside, at the edge of the door, and together, they began to climb the side of the station. The ladder was narrow and because of the padding and girth of the suit gloves, it felt as if they were holding nothing at all as they climbed. He tapped his helmet with a free hand and turned to look below him. "Hello?" he said. "Yeah?" "Just checking if you had your com on. Where do you want to walk to?" "How about the greenhouse?" "Sure. We could have just gone there without having to come outside.” “I know. But we haven't been outside in a long time.” They climbed until the hand holds came to an end and they were able to stand on their feet. Besides their visors, they were indistinguishable within the white surface of the station. They could see the large structure that jutted out at the edge of their vision. It would be at least 15 miles to reach it though. It was two stories tall and at the top was enclosed by a round glass dome. It was modeled after what they had called lighthouses in the historical archives. On the second level, on the other side of the glass was a walkway that went completely around the dome, allowing them a panoramic view of all the space that surrounded them. He unhooked their cable and went inside. There were ivies that stretched upwards along the sidewalls and potted plants lined in organized rows by their genus and species. She was particularly fond of a vanilla orchid she planted when they first arrived. There were many others back then. The leaves were massive and the yellow petals of the flower spread out like tendrils that hung down from their stalk. She took off her helmet. Tshe aromas invaded her senses all at once. She fell backwards and watched the stars above the dome turn to streak of light.. She landed on the floor and laid there. “It's smells beautiful,” she said, “They’ve grown very well.” While she was observing the plants, he had made his way up the stairs and was now looking outside. There were was only the beige white of the station shoved underneath the blackness of space. It mesmerized him, he couldn't tell if the horizon ended with the edge of the station or if it ended somewhere in the dark and there was none. He heard the thud from the level below him. He turned around and looked over the railing. “What happened?” She heard his voice through the helmet that laid by her side. She picked it up and spoke into it, holding it with both hands in front of her face. “Nothing, just overwhelmed. It's been too long.” The rush of oxygen from the greenhouse made her lightheaded. So did the smell of life. She had become too use to to sterility of the clean scrubbed air that was in every nook of the station besides here. She put her helmet back on and joined him on the walkway. "It should be arriving any minute. Can you see them start to form on along the edges?" "Yeah. I do." She saw a thin line raise itself on the outer edge of the star. At the apex of its arc, it lashed out violently like the flagella of molecular cells. Intense bands of light extended off these limbs. They became bent and distorted as they traveled outwards, the colors folding in on each other. She came over and stood next to him, "It's almost like watching the torn edges of a silk scarf being blown in the wind,” she said. “I've never seen that before,” he said. "Do you ever miss home?" she said. "I don't know. I don't think I remember what it looks like." "We can
62nd Police Precinct Station House
Longwood, Bronx The 62nd Police Precinct Station House, with its monumental ground-story arcade of bold, bull-nosed rustication and contrasting upper stories of smooth-faced ashlar limestone, was built in 1912-14 for a new police precinct in the West Farms area of the Bronx, then undergoing rapid development and increase in population. Designed by the architectural Srm of Hazzard, Erskine & Blagden in the neo-Renaissance style considered appropriate for an arm of municipal government, the station house reflects the vision of the City Beautiful movement. The three-story limestone Simpson Avenue facade is surmounted by a richly ornamented terra-cotta cornice and broad-eaved hipped roof (originally of green tile) evoking the fifteenth- and early sixteenth-century palaces of Florence and Rome. Submitted for the approval of the New York City Art Commission (itself founded in response to City Beautiful ideals), the design received subsequent academic refinement in the architecture committee, headed by Isaac Newton Phelps Stokes. This station house, commissioned by Rhinelander Waldo, the new Commissioner of the Police Department as part of an ambitious building program for the department, appears to have been intended as a model for others. But contemporary political reverses made it the only example of Hazzard, Erskine & Blagden's work conveying the image city government wished to project in the recently urbanized boroughs beyond Manhattan just before World War I. The former 62nd Precinct and the 41st Precinct In 1913 when the new station house opened, the 1.80 square miles of the precinct contained a population of 48,000 people along its thirty-three miles of streets. The full complement of the precinct force in 1916 consisted of one captain, three lieutenants, nine sergeants, seventy patrolmen, and three matrons. An elderly resident remembered not only the opening of the new precinct station house but the vestiges of the gardens and orchards of old West Farms. The residents of the Fox's Comers area, took great pride in their neighborhood. Relatives from lower Manhattan came for a few weeks in the summer months. Entries from the police "blotters" of 1920-21 attest to an almost suburban ambience. Summons were issued for an unmuzzled dog, for violations to the Sabbath Law (selling on Sunday -many in the neighborhood were Jewish), for violations of the Sanitary Code (uncovered fruit), and for throwing garbage into a rear lot. Summons were issued to speeders, clocked at twenty-eight, twenty-nine and thirty-two miles per hour, on Southern Boulevard. There were routine raids on three speakeasies, at 935 and 1011 Southern Boulevard and 989 Westchester Avenue. Six neighborhood boys, thirteen to fifteen years of age, were brought in for playing in the street at Tiffany and 163rd Street. They were admonished and sent home with their parents. On the rare occasion, patrolmen's weapons were discharged -to destroy a crippled horse at the request of the owner and to shoot a mad dog, again at the owner's request. Every day there were deliveries to the station house's commissary, eighty pounds of butter from Blue Valley Creamery, five cases of eggs, 100 pounds of bacon from Swift & Co., 100 pounds of coffee, and from the National Biscuit Co., two dozen fig newtons, three dozen graham crackers, three dozen Loma Doones, one dozen marshmellows, and a half dozen ginger snaps. In 1920 the 62nd Precinct became the 47th but four years later it was renumbered and became the 20th. In 1929 the renumbering of precincts reoccurred and the 20th became the 41st, which number it has had ever since. In an effort to facilitate trade regulation in the same year Traffic Precinct 'G* was assigned to the 41st Precinct station house at 1086 Simpson Street. The area began to change with World War U when the factories in the Port Morris section of The Bronx drew thousands into war-related industry. The war effort attracted large migrations from the southern part of this country and from Puerto Rico. Following the war public projects were constructed to house the influx. At the same time, more established residents moved away. But in the 1960(5, many industries relocated. Unemployment ensued, housing maintenance declined, and poverty escalated. By 1971 when the precinct had grown to 2.5 square miles,the population within it was several times greater than it had been in 1913. The police blotter entries for 1971 reflect the change in the area. A robbery occurred at Bankers Trust early one spring afternoon; $700.00 in fives and tens was removed. A bomb scare was reported at a military recruiting booth at 163rd Street and Southern Boulevard. In seeking the arrest of a man who had imprisoned his common-law wife and infant, both the arresting ofHcer and the assailant were shot as a hostile crowd gathered. The majority of the arrests had become drug related. The precinct had begun to operate a narcotics patrol car and a patrolmen