I started by recognizing the finish, testing an inconspicuous spot with a cotton swab, then lifting water rings using a soft cloth, heat, and a whisper of lemon oil. Ultra-fine steel wool, guided with the grain, smoothed haze, while paste wax sealed warmth, revived sheen, and kept family board-game nights joyfully uninterrupted.
Before pulling a single staple, I photographed every fold and piping junction like a map. Saving the old fabric as a pattern ensured proportions stayed honest. New batting supported tired springs, tack strips sharpened edges, and careful attention to fabric grain protected that unmistakable silhouette that once framed bedtime stories and quiet afternoons.
A gentle twist revealed a loose mortise and tired tenon. I labeled parts, eased old glue with warm water, cleaned surfaces, and applied fresh hide glue for reversibility. Clamps closed gaps without bruising wood, diagonal measurements confirmed squareness, and by morning the table stood steady, hosting breakfast like nothing precarious ever happened.