For 11 years, the most tangible reminder that I have of the two years I spent earning my master's degree at Yale has been the monthly bill I get from the Bursar's Office reminding me to pay my student loan. This weekend, all that changed when my parents showed up with my graduation gift.
Behold my new desk, engineered and handcrafted by my father and totally worth the decade-plus wait:
There are many amazing things about this desk: its quarter-sawn oak, its walnut accents, its six layers of finish, its unbelievable quality (especially to me, who owns mostly furniture from IKEA), but what is most amazing is that my dad made this for me based on a picture I found on the Internet. Not plans, mind you, but a picture that I saw of a desk that I liked. He can take a picture and make it into reality, and that, my friends, is just not normal. He already has a master's degree, my dad, but he should get another one for sheer ingenuity.
Please do not fail to notice the lamp:
Lovingly selected by my mother, who is always anxious for me to have proper lighting--so much so that probably half of my home's light fixtures and lamps are gifts from her--the lamp goes perfectly with the desk:
You know, the picture doesn't even begin to do it justice. So consider yourself invited to my office anytime. You can come and have a cup of coffee and see and touch and smell my desk. I know that sounds weird, but once you've done it, you'll understand why I'm offering.
Thanks, Mom and Dad.
Edited to add: As my mother is quite correct to note in comments, it's not that the desk took 11 years to make. It's more that it took 10 of those 11 years for me to stop moving every two years, which would indeed make having a desk like this not so much a joy as a burden. Not to mention that they have stored a great deal of my crap over the years and probably did not want to end up with this in their basement.
