This was my mom's type drawer--not sure if she had picked it up at a tag sale or had scrounged it from a printer. It sat in the basement of my childhood home for years. Refinishing it was one of the last projects my father and I worked on before they divorced.
Technically speaking, this is a California Job Case, and has hung on a wall in every apartment I've called home. In turn it has become home to the menagerie of second-hand bits I've accumulated over the past 25 years.
For a very long time, it smelled of old pickles. Thankfully not anymore.