The $4 Entry Table (or, Fewer Legs = More Space)

I have this fantasy of the perfect entry. I’ll enter to wonderful light, with the fragrance of lavender surrounding me from the vase of flowers on the entry table. I’ll hang my keys on the provided rack, hang up my coat, sort the mail immediately, and enter a room that’s clutter free.

Leaving aside the fact that any vase of flowers is unlikely to survive a house with three cats, this vision is doubtful in the 4′ x 5′ space that serves as the entry to my 1938 cottage. Still, in my on-going quest to improve the entry, I added a table. Problem is, the legs took up too much space.

Entry before | Fraudulent Farmgirl
The entry before. The sort-of-demilune shape of the table helped, but the closet can’t open completely with the table there. The basket is for mail recycling.

So I decided to mount the table to the wall, which would remove it from the path of the door.

Table before surgery. Cat shown for size, and also because my cats are expert photobombers.
Table before surgery. Cat shown for size, and also because my cats are expert photobombers.

The table, by the way, is one I bought for maybe $4 at Goodwill Outlet. I stripped the worst of the varnish off about 6 months ago but never got around to painting it. I took my handy circular saw and cut the legs off it.

Table legs | Fraudulent Farmgirl
Table legs post surgery. A craftier woman than I would turn those spindles into candlesticks or something, but I frankly don’t have the patience for that.

I slapped a coat of primer and and a couple of coats of high-gloss white enamel (left over from other projects) on the table top. Then I had to figure out how to attach it to the wall.

I screwed some leftover wood to the wall studs as a cleat. The table apron snuggles up to the cleat, so I could screw the apron into the cleat.

Table attachment | Fraudulent Farmgirl

It felt a little loose, so I hammered some shims into the space between the table apron and cleat to tighten things up. I broke off the extra so that the shims are more-or-less even with the edge of the table.

It works fine, although it’s not going to win Bob Villa’s award for meticulous craftsmanship.

Finished entry | Fraudulent Farmgirl
The now-legless table sits out of the way of the closet door, and still leaves room for the recycling basket. Note another cat photobomber.

By the way, my front door is not actually the same color as the entry way. Same color family, but not the same color.

Entry wall table | Fraudulent Farmgirl

Total cost: the $4 I paid for the table. Literally everything else, from the wood to the screws to the paint, I already had around here.

Result: More spacious entry, less tripping and swearing. I call that a win.

 

Fraudulent Farmgirl
I teach garden and homesteading skills—the stuff your great-grandmother knew how to do. But if there's a faster, cheaper, or easier way to do it, I'll find it!By day, I design earth-friendly gardens for Spotts Garden Service. By night, I don my Wellies to become the Fraudulent Farmgirl. On my small urban homestead, I've ripped out the front lawn to plant vegetables and fruit trees, turned the garage into a chicken coop and grown enough strawberries to feed half the neighborhood.

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