or teen, for that matter. Pretty much most of our interior furnishing will be from a flat-pack box.
Thus far, we have seen nothing to match IKEA for their quality/price-value ratio, even among the u-assemble crowd. The local runners-up would be Alinéa, who won a spot on our patio with table and chairs. These were easy enough for a 12-year-old to assemble with nearly no adult direction. As witness:
IKEA, on the other hand, can be a little more complicated. The furniture assembly has (for the most part) extraordinarily clear directions made almost entirely of illustrations. Still, it is very well designed and put together, even if I am the final assembly technician. Bolts and screws are often threaded into metal receptors inserted into pre-drilled holes and locked into place with these little metal spiral-like discs you half-turn over the bolt or screw, and which probably have a well-known carpentry-ish designation, but which I had never encountered before. IKEA having all-illustration directions, I remain ignorant of the term, but NOT of the need for 24 of these sweet babies on my one piece of furniture.
Theo has been helping with our IKEA construction, (and since I do occasionally bite into virgin wood with these screws, I feel justified in using the term), but I don’t try to turn him loose with these. They can get a little complicated.
OK, I confess: I am pretty limited in my construction skills. I’m only willing to try so much without fear of some really unfortunate mistake, so the rest of our furniture will have to have Stoney’s help this weekend. I figure, directions that seem a little complicated and maybe ambiguous should be quite clear to a structural design engineer. Right? So I expect by the end of the weekend to have all the furniture basics assembled to show you, and more importantly, ready for our 900 pounds of worldly goods, which arrive Monday. (Not that you’re not important.)