TREE TRUNK END TABLES : END TABLES

Tree trunk end tables : Barnwood dining table

Tree Trunk End Tables


tree trunk end tables
    tree trunk
  • "Tree Trunk" is a song recorded and released in 1972 by The Doors.
  • In botany, trunk (or bole) refers to the main structural member of a tree that supports the branches and is supported by and directly attached to the roots.
  • trunk: the main stem of a tree; usually covered with bark; the bole is usually the part that is commercially useful for lumber
    end tables
  • are small tables typically placed beside couches or armchairs. Often lamps will be placed on an end table.
  • Usually bought in pairs, they accent the style of the coffee table or other furniture. Usually placed at the end of the sofa, it is a very important piece of a living room set.
tree trunk end tables - Southern Enterprises
Southern Enterprises Wood Trunk End Table
Southern Enterprises Wood Trunk End Table
Dimensions: 20 W x 20 D x 23.75 H
Finish: Mission Oak
Material: MDF
Mission Oak Finish Pyramid Storage Trunk End Table
Attractive and practical, this unique end table provides convenient storage possibilities for any room.
Perfect as an end table or nightstand, this trunk is finished with a warm mission oak stain and metal hardware.
Reminiscent of an antique storage chest, the understated styling creates a transitional accent table that blends with any home decor.
Matching coffee table sold separately.
Assembly Required.

80% (8)
Huyler's Landing
Huyler's Landing
On His Lordship's Mysterious Ascent In the pre-dawn darkness of November 20, 1776 , a wooden keel scrapes against a crude stone jetty in Hudson’s River—and the invasion of New Jersey begins. The cold, intermittent rain that started overnight continues, as hour after hour boats land at the base of the tall stone escarpment. Armed men—British regulars, German mercenaries, their officers—disembark to climb the primitive "road" to the summit. Dawn reveals dozens of boats still queued on the river, protected by warships that loom from the mist like prickly wooden isles. Those troops already on the steep defile feel themselves vulnerable, anxious to reach the top. For many, this is their first taste of real wilderness. They watch for snakes, for wild animals. For enemy forms among the bare tree trunks. They know a handful of rebels could pin them here all day with musket fire. (For that matter, thinks one, by hurtling stones down upon us…) But by ten in the morning, the full invasion force has assembled on the summit, still unopposed, their presence apparently yet undetected by the rebels. Drums sound in the drizzle, as five thousand men, led by Lt. General Lord Charles, Earl of Cornwallis, begin to march south, toward the rebel stronghold of Fort Lee. The fog closes behind them. "Headquarters" For over two centuries, the stone and wood house has stood on the Hudson’s edge, the last of its kind, a keeper of secrets. In the early 1900s, when the Interstate Park took over the fishing village once known as the Closter Dock, by then known as Alpine Landing, they made the house their police headquarters. It was an arrangement that would last until the 1920s, when a larger headquarters was built atop the cliffs. No longer needed, the house would most likely follow the fate of its neighbors and be razed. What saved it from that fate was a belief, embedded in the folklore of Alpine Landing, that it had filled a unique niche in the history of the American republic. That it had served, however briefly, as the "Headquarters" of George Washington’s most dogged royal foe. Here Lord Cornwallis had spread his maps upon a humble American table. Cornwallis, whose brilliant surprise assault spurred Washington’s famous retreat across the Jerseys to the Delaware (a retreat during which, it is said, Thomas Paine penned his immortal line, These are the times that try men’s souls, with the head of a drum as his writing desk). Cornwallis, who five bloody years later would claim illness and send out his second, rather than have personally to offer his sword to Washington at Yorktown. Here, though, five years before that dismal day in Virginia, his Lordship had sipped an ale—served to him by a fair American tavern hostess named Rachel Kearney—as his army tramped by the little house, all but certain their march on Fort Lee would end the revolt in the colonies. It was, simply, a historical image too compelling to ignore. Or so argued the New Jersey State Federation of Women‘s Clubs and others. And the house, rather than being razed, was instead raised to the curious height of what was believed to be, at any rate, the nation's only historic shrine dedicated to an enemy general. But had it really been Cornwallis’s "headquarters"? Even in 1930, as a grand dedication ceremony was planned by the Federation, some doubts were raised. Most notable among these, perhaps, were those expressed by Mrs. Maria Demarest Kearney Myers, then 88 and a granddaughter of Rachel Kearney, the purported tavern hostess. Mrs. Myers pointed out, sensibly enough, that while her grandmother had indeed occupied the little house for a good many of her ninety years on this earth, she had not begun those years until 1780—four years after his Lordship’s visit to New Jersey. (Mrs. Myers went on to deny that Rachel had ever run a tavern at all—a denial that strikes us as suspect. Our evidence does in fact point to Rachel’s hosting a tavern—though probably not until some time after she was born.) The article in which Mrs. Myers’ denials were printed ended with, "At least we have conclusive proof that the part which Rachel Kearney was reputed to have played in the story is nothing but a myth. That [the house] was even for a few hours Cornwallis’ headquarters may be equally mythical." The articles was clearly a minority opinion, however, one easily lost amid the pomp and hoopla associated with the dedication ceremony and the opening of the house to the public, for which artifacts and antiques had been donated from across the state. Stories of Cornwallis’s ghost were mentioned, how it would return on the anniversary of the invasion to tread upon the old road to the summit. A brass plaque was forged and placed by the doorway, for visitors to read. "Cornwallis Headquarters," the metal letters staidly proclaimed, "Nov 18th, 1776." But that plaque may have provided the first glimpse of troubles yet to com
one tree hill.
one tree hill.
There was a television advert for a bank or an insurance company - I don't remember which exactly - but I'm pretty sure it was for an organisation for whom the level of emotion was completely inappropriate.

It featured a montage of faces, each dreamily looking upwards, sharing the wishes that were somehow facilitated by said organisation.

"I want to be a gymnast,"
"I want to be teacher,"
"I want to be a sex pest," and so on.
And, the closing thought, "I want to be a tree."

The latter was my mum's favourite. She likes trees - she couldn't quite see how banking or taking out insurance would allow her to become one. But the thought became something of a catch phrase for her. "I want to be a tree," she often said, dreamily looking upwards, fantasising of a life more peaceful and serene.

Well, that dream has slowly been hacked away at for several years. And last night it came crashing to the ground, when my dad committed axe to trunk and bought the whole fucking tree down.

Concerned that it was growing out of control, dad was determined to assert his, and fell the tree that loomed over a main road in our front garden.

Obviously, there are precautions that need to be taken when dealing with a felling so close to a busy road. For my dad these precautions, and the costs involved in taking them, were to be - at all times - avoided.

The tree, he decided, would be felled by himself, his shopkeeper friend, a chainsaw, and a bit of rope. And in the hope that the twenty-foot beech tree would fall this way and not that - onto the road and to the injury or death of its innocent users.

But, while still shedding the tree of its branches, onlookers must have observed this potential tragedy and complained; for when the police arrived the men dropped their chainsaws and their plans.

But not for good.

Determined to fell this tree, without any financial cost to himself, and undeterred by the warnings of the police (and soon after the local council and two tree surgeons), my dad decided that he would return to the tree, under the cloak of darkness. And, if his shopkeeper friend wouldn't join him, he'd get his best man on the job.

81-year-old war veteran, John would trade his walking stick for a chainsaw and fell the tree in exchange for fire wood, such was his quality of life. He lived alone, in the bad end of town, and would use the wood to heat his abode through to the summer, if he'd make it.

To my dad being compassionate and frugal were two mutually exclusive things. You couldn't be one and the other. Saving money, he thought, was a cruel thing. And so he watched as the old man boarded a step ladder and began to saw at the wood.

But before they were done, the local council returned. The tree, they suggested, may not be ours after all. My dad may be fined, the old man deprived of his fire wood and my mum, whose dreams had been dashed, sawed and partially felled, proven right, after all.

Being cheap and wise, she'd always insisted, were mutually exclusive. In trying to save money my dad had incurred additional costs. And had he learned his lesson?

"I think I'll get John to make a start on the tree in the back garden," he said over dinner the following night.
"Why don't you just do it the right way," my mum said. "For once."
With that she got down from the table and stood her ground, strong and firm. And not at all unlike a tree.

tree trunk end tables
tree trunk end tables
Butler Specialty Heritage Rectangular Wood Trunk Cocktail Table
Designed for those who appreciate gracious living and elegant homes, Butler Specialty's flagship Heritage collection cocktail tables are destined to be the brightest spot in your room. This table features genuwine leather appointments with a laminated old world surface map. In addition, this table has a convenient center storage drawer. Features: Trunk Cocktail Table made from select solid woods and wood products Heritage medium wood finish Laminated old world map surface Genuine leather appointments Rectangle shape Wood top Convenient center storage drawer Traditional style Some assembly required Specifications: Overall dimensions: 18" H x 36" W x 24" D Weight: 92 lbs

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