Two Broads Antiques Rehab Shop

05/05/2026

Now that I’ve caught you all up with the projects we began and/or completed in 2025, it’s time to get you all caught up with the projects we’ve been working on since we opened our doors for 2026 about three weeks ago.

This year, there weren’t any estate sales to troll during the late winter and early spring. We were getting pretty antsy, so we picked up a couple of flippable, totally not antique end tables at ReStore, just to have things to do when the weather was good, on and off. The rule was, we couldn’t fully unpack the workshop until I was sure we would have no more severe weather. A large snowstorm blew through, followed by several weeks of tornado/hail type weather, so the car had to fit in the garage on those days. Meanwhile, a seller in Rochester who used to flip furniture decided to end her hobby by selling her collection in bulk. We drove over there and jammed four more end tables into the back of my Subaru. Then came the first estate sale, where we picked up a midcentury modern end table in excellent condition. That meant we now had seven end tables waiting for attention.

Correction. We had NINE end tables. Because in addition to everything else that we had acquired and worked on in 2025, Martha had showed up in July with a matched pair of late 1950s Mersman end tables that were in terrible shape. Those end tables had sat around mocking us ever since. Last summer, between other projects, we tried stripping and then sanding them, but they remained resolutely “picnic table” red. Plus, the previous owner had also tried to sand them and came close to blowing out the veneer.

The second week of April 2026 gave us plenty of nice weather, so we three broads knuckled down and in only about four or five days, we knocked out FIVE completed end tables, including these two Mersmans. I’ll share the other stuff in my next post. This post is just about the “red” ones.

Y’all, these tables were rough. Water and grease stains all over, the legs had stood in water at some point, and a relentless failed finish that refused to come out. Finally, finally, we got the flat surfaces cleaned to the point that they were tolerably stripped, but the poplar legs and dowels were not giving up the old stain. We knew this would probably happen, from our work on the 1950s coffee table last year (it too had poplar legs and dowels). So, we decided this would be the project to try out a product called gel stain, which we’ve heard is much more forgiving than regular stain.

Lo and behold, the flat veneered surfaces, which didn’t look all that great even after all our careful sanding, took the dark walnut gel stain beautifully! The poplar and end grain parts, however, looked dark and blotchy. That’s when we made the snap decision to paint all the poplar and keep on staining the veneer. It made us sad and a bit defeated not to restore them completely, but at this point we didn’t want to spend any more time on the project. I picked out an avocado paint color that was perhaps a bit “out there” for Martha and Deb, but once it all came together, the results were impressive!

Based on Martha’s online research, we got the impression that these tables were fairly desirable. We went for broke on our listing and three days later we sold them for an impressive profit! Who would’ve thought that these ugly, old, neglected pieces would find new life 70 years after they were made?

04/23/2026

Another project we worked on in late 2025 was a little cabinet that Martha had picked up earlier in the year. As we cycled through various pieces that summer to fix up for our Third Broad’s new house, many turned out not to quite work for her space. Martha brought over this little cabinet and in the advancing days of fall, we hurried to fix it up.

The minute I saw it, I knew it wasn’t American. It had a detailing style that looked nothing like other pieces of the period, which is likely late 1800s. We ran it through Google Lens and the only pieces that ever matched it were being sold in Germany or the Czech Republic.

It had a nice burled inlay, carved finials, a handsome drawer pull, and an imperfect but good enough marble top. The three of us tackled it quickly. While the other broads cleaned and touched up the cabinet, I built a replacement detail piece for the drawer front out of an old picture frame. I made some structural repairs to the cabinet and then set to work cleaning and sealing the marble. It was all a race against time, because the workshop was getting pretty cool and damp at that point (November).

The final result is I think quite handsome, and it serves nicely now in my aunt’s bathroom for toiletry storage.

04/19/2026

Another project I worked on, or rather picked away at, over the summer of 2025 was this 1930s era library table that we picked up at an estate sale. We found it hiding in a basement (first picture) and holding up two gigantic glass display cases full of Redwing Pottery dishware. The home was filled top to bottom with Redwing, to the point where the main floor was sagging under the weight of it all. This was a classic example of an elderly homeowner who had spent five decades illogically collecting every piece she could lay hands on of a certain collection, plus she’d acquired dozens of shop display cases and break fronts in order to display it all, but display to whom? It wasn’t nice, like a museum. It filled every nook and cranny of her house, even the dark, moldy basement. And clearly her descendants had no interest in any of this staggeringly huge and unused collection.

I had walked past the library table several times without noticing it. All the pottery sold, and then one of the display cases atop it sold. That’s when I noticed the table itself and its interesting details. It was the last hour of the sale, so I grabbed it as a bundle with an old chair and a 1911 toaster.

It was excessively moldy. Some of the veneer was missing, and most of the top layer was loose and ready to slide right off. Cleaning it gave me asthma attacks for days. To my delight, it was coated in shellac, so I thought I could simply wipe it down and reamalgamate the topcoat. However, the results were spotty, and I’m pretty sure I will need to strip the whole thing down and recoat with shellac.

I spent some time repairing the broken veneer, with positive results. But then the garage got very damp, and the veneer bubbled up in ways that undid all the progress I had made. Anyway, the library table is still stacked in a pile of things to complete. Martha doubts that anyone would want such a piece, but I think it would be handy as a sofa table or a hall table. And it’s sturdy as can be, even after decades of hiding under the tremendous weight of pottery.

But it sure would be nice to get this project out of here!

04/17/2026

I’m circling back to cover some of the other projects the Two Broads worked on during the summer of 2025, during which time I was apparently far too distracted to create timely reports on this page.

Back in late June 2025, I posted an initial report about the 1947 Golden Throat Radio, which we had acquired the year before. In that post, I talked about stripping off the failed, crumbling finish and stripping out all the electronic guts. But then I left you all hanging.

Lots more progress occurred to that radio. I moved on to making repairs to the radio cabinet. The bottom section in particular had a lot of missing veneer, and two of its feet had partly broken off or rotted away. I filled in the gaps in the missing veneer, deciding that I would paint over that band rather than waste time replacing veneer. I also glued blocks to the broken feet and shaped them to mimic what would have originally been there. A detail strip on the face of the cabinet needed gluing down. After all was finished on the bottom band, I painted the section I had repaired, to seal it all in.

Then I flipped the cabinet upright and spent a lot of time figuring out how to build a structure inside it for a new shelf. I realize now, as I’m selecting some pictures, that I spent the whole summer picking away at it and accomplishing a lot, yet weeks went by in between during which I was doing other things. (And, as I recall, feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of the radio project.) Still, I’m amazed how much work I actually did on it! And yet it’s not finished. 😢

Anyway, by the time I was done for the 2025 season, the radio had two new shelves, a painted interior, a clean dial face, new legs, and a detail painted onto one of the doors. It’s still standing in the corner, daring me to finish it as a retro wine bar. Hopefully, I will find the time to get back to it this summer.

03/12/2026

Video of aforementioned “refinished” staircase.

03/12/2026

Since the Broads’ workshop remains closed for the winter, I thought I’d share the work I’ve been putting off and finally doing on my janky 1928 oak staircase. When I first moved in 3 years ago, I found a bare wood staircase that had obviously been carpeted for most of its existence. Thankfully, the previous owners had torn out all of that stuff.

Unfortunately, the guy who refinished my floors before i moved in told me that refinishing one staircase costs more than all the floors downstairs and up put together. Martha and I decided that surely we could do it ourselves (lololololol).

Also, unfortunately, the dogs and I were regularly breaking our necks without any tread. Martha and my sister swooped in and stuck down some Menards runner pieces as a temporary fix. Honestly, that stuff is great. It has taken a three year beating and is neither stained nor pulling loose.

However, I would now like a classier runner to go with the repainted walls. Also, the basement steps need recarpeting (must be 40 years old at least), and surely it’s cheaper to have a guy come here only one time.

All of which is to say that I girded my loins and attacked the first main problem: not one person in 98 years has bothered to use a drop cloth or clean up when they rolled, spilled, and slopped paint on every dang step and baseboard in my house. All of these beauties are original thick boards with a lovely patina. But also paint spatter. I’ve scraped and picked at room after room, which is why I’ve put off the worst, aka these stairs.

I did a test area with Liftoff Latex Paint Remover. This product does indeed loosen old dried paint enough that elbow grease, scrapers, and pads take away most of it. This product, if left on too long, also removes the old finish. I decided that I didn’t want to work quite that hard.

The further up I progressed, the firmer my convictions were that “half assed” would actually suffice, because not only were the stairs covered in paint, but they were also riddled with dozens of staples and nails. Anything would look better than how they currently looked. And it was a miracle I or the dogs had never slashed ourselves on sharp metal bits all these years.

So this was my method:
1. Clean about 3-4” to either side of each temp carpet piece with Murphys cleaner.
2. Sq**rt some Liftoff on small scotch pad bits and rub at the paint spatter. (And also rub the risers to remove shoe rubber)
3. Scrape with razor scraper held pretty flat.
4. Wipe Liftoff-applied areas with water damped rag. You don’t want Liftoff to sit too long or it eats off all the finish.
5. Repeat another application of Liftoff and scotch pad. Repeat scrape. By now about 90% of the paint spatter is gone. Good enough for government work. You do not want to remove all the patina.
6. Let the stairs dry and re-amalgamate overnight. Spend hours yanking and digging out nails and staples. Who cares about hundreds of holes and divots. It’s a dark staircase.
7. When thoroughly dry, use a Qtip to apply Golden Mahogany stain to areas where the finish is gone, nails have been dug out, and the hammer has smashed some of the trim (whoops). Wipe off stain with a rag. Reapply more the next day if needed.
8. Once stain is dry, apply paste wax to all areas that will show once the runner is installed.

That’s my total cheat method for “refinishing” a 100 year old oak staircase that’s never going to be beautiful anyway and isn’t worth paying $6000 to refinish.

Next up: I need to deal with the huge gap between the wall and the staircase baseboard.

12/04/2025

This is a terrific graphic and explanation for the difference between flat sawn and quarter sawn wood.

Character-Defining Materials ~ Flat Sawn and Quarter Sawn Wood.

The materials used to build historic houses are often as character-defining as the design of the houses. Different materials have come in and out of popularity with changes in technology and styles and some common materials have been offered in different forms.

One of those basic materials is wood, which can have very different properties depending on how it is sawn from the log. The two most common sawing methods are flat sawn and quarter sawn.

As this illustration from Chapter 14 of "Restoring Your Historic House, The Comprehensive Guide for Homeowners" shows; a flat sawn board wastes less of the log but has a wood grain structure that allows the board to cup or bow due to differences in humidity and/or temperature. A quarter sawn board wastes more of the log and is more labor intensive to saw but has end grain on both sides making it tougher and much more dimensionally stable than a flat sawn board.

Flooring is one example of where this difference matters in the quality of construction. Better quality floors are made with quarter sawn lumber - whether hardwood or softwood. The exposed edge grain is resistant to damage and more attractive for a stained and varnished floor.

Preserving character-defining features, including materials, should be a priority when planning a rehab project.

This topic is covered in depth in "Restoring Your Historic House, The Comprehensive Guide for Homeowners."

Signed and personalized copies of the award-winning and bestselling 720-page hardcover book are available from the author in our online shop at YourHistoricHouse.com/shop/.

Our shop also carries select preservation and restoration titles by other authors. Save with our multi-book combo packs!

© Scott T. Hanson 2025.

11/14/2025

I mentioned recently that I would speaking to you all about the subject of estate sales some day, and I will do so in more personal terms at some later point, but I just saw this article go by in my other feed and I thought I’d share it here in the meantime.

Almost every neglected piece that Martha and I acquire at resale shops, from friends, or particularly at estate sales comes into our hands specifically because most people are too busy or too uncomfortable with the idea of what the below author calls “death cleaning.” In short, every house we step into, no matter what economic class, is a dungeon filled with five or more decades worth of accumulation without any attempt at equal parts discarding of stuff.

Rarely do Martha and I buy beautiful pieces of furniture. We make ourselves sick by crawling around cobwebbed basements for the broken, moldy, water damaged items that owners have stuffed into corners rather than discarded or fixed. Yet, with some certain effort, every item we rescue ends up useful and handsome. Someday, I’ll tell you the individual stories behind some of our pieces, where we found them and how they went on to new lives. But today, I just want you to absorb the information outlined below.

Dear followers, do yourselves—and especially your children— a massive favor. Put Martha and me out of business. Get rid of your crap. Start now, because trust me, it will take you years (I’ve been doing my own purge for six years already). Own only what you actively use or love.

Because I have seen the overwhelm and despair in the eyes of deceased people’s children, and they don’t deserve that burden on top of their grief.

You die tomorrow. Your children walk into your home—closets stuffed with clothes unworn for years, attic packed with mystery boxes, drawers full of things you meant to sort "someday." Now they must decide what mattered to you and what was just… there. This is the inheritance you're building right now.

Margareta Magnusson, a Swedish woman somewhere between 80 and 100 (she won't say exactly), has written a slim, devastating book that will make you see every object differently. "Döstädning," she calls it—death cleaning. The Swedes have a word for tidying up your life before you go so no one else has to. Once you understand it, you can't unknow it. The question becomes: what are you going to do about all that stuff?

1. Your Stuff Will Outlive Your Stories
Magnusson's premise cuts to the bone: keep only what makes you happy or what you use, because everything else becomes someone else's burden. She's witnessed adult children weeping in their late parent's basement, surrounded by unidentifiable things they can't bear to discard. The golf clubs never used. Photos of strangers. China from a marriage no one discusses. Swedish death cleaning isn't about preparing for death—it's about living with only what earns its place.

2. Start Where It's Easy, Not Where It Hurts
Begin with what's easiest to release—duplicate gadgets, ancient formal wear, unread books. Build momentum before tackling love letters and children's artwork. Magnusson's rules are brutal: if your children don't want it, don't force it. If you keep something from guilt, that's insufficient. If untouched for years, you won't miss it. She offers startling anecdotes—sorting a friend's erotic collection, her own paintings—revealing our peculiar attachment to unused objects.

3. Everything You Treasure Will Mean Nothing to Someone Else
The book's most haunting moment: love letters found at an estate sale, intimate words between strangers now sold for pennies because no one remembers who wrote them or why. Magnusson confronts uncomfortable truths—fantasy selves in clothes that don't fit, abandoned hobbies still claiming space, gifts kept from obligation. Her wisdom: keep a "throw away immediately" box. Label photos while you remember. Don't save for a "someday" that won't arrive.

4. Legacy Isn't What You Leave Behind—It's What You Free Others From
At just over 100 pages, this book reframes possessions as future burden rather than current comfort. Magnusson's voice—wise, irreverent grandmother who knows what matters—cuts through emotional fog with Swedish directness. The greatest gift isn't more things but less guilt, less obligation, less burden to preserve a material legacy never requested. Death cleaning isn't morbid; it's love disguised as housekeeping.

For anyone drowning in decades of accumulation, paralyzed by the sentiment attached to objects, or simply wondering why they're keeping three broken blenders—Magnusson offers liberation. Her death cleaning isn't morbid; it's generous. It's choosing to take responsibility for your possessions while you still can, rather than leaving them as a puzzle for others to solve.

Read this book. Then go look at your basement with new eyes. You'll understand why the Swedes are so famously content—they've learned what the rest of us resist: freedom isn't having everything. It's needing less.

BOOK: https://amzn.to/43r3YZ7

You can find and listen to the audiobook narration using the link above.

11/12/2025

I had a little project I did this past week for my aunt, the Third Broad. She had a music box that was smashed decades ago and had been salvaged and stored since then in two ziplock bags. Could I reassemble it for her?

It took me a few days to go at it bit by bit, clamping the tiny bits carefully. All but just a couple of pieces of wood and a shard of glass were in the baggies, but it was enough to rebuild the box to mostly intact glory. Thankfully, the music workings themselves are fully functional, because that is outside my skill set!

After researching the four popular American songs pasted inside the lid, the artwork on the lid, and the history of Swiss music boxes, I was able to determine that it was likely made between 1908 and 1915. Swiss music boxes in the late 1800s and early 1900s, like pump organs, were a popular feature of the ordinary American parlor. They were even sold in Sears catalogs. Everyone craved music and entertainment in the evening. This box was created at the moment in time when Victrolas were beginning to catch on, so it had competition. Other types of music boxes were designed with removable discs so that the owner could change out the tunes, but ultimately the Victrolas and their records won out. And of course in another ten years, radio would explode onto the scene.

This music box entered someone’s possession at the end of one era and the beginning of another, so it’s pretty much the last of its kind. It’s a beautiful little thing. I polished it up and returned it to my aunt, who says it’s been shattered for decades, as long as she can remember.

It has a wonderful tone! Listen!

10/16/2025

A very interesting short film about the making of shellac, a shiny product used not only in finishing furniture but also in many of our food products. One of my neighbors gave us a little bag of some shellac flakes so that we can experiment with making our own furniture shellac.