Privacy Policy. In the Words We Would Use at the Bench.

Nothing that identifies you, unless you decide to send it. This site is a set of files sitting on a server. There is no account to create, no login, and no advertising pixel. The shop does count how many people visit, through a service built not to know who they are: it sets nothing on your device, and it cannot tell one visitor from another or follow you anywhere else.

Four things are worth naming and they are the whole of this notice. The first is the contact form, which you fill in on purpose. The second and third load only on the contact page: the Google map, which is Google’s and behaves like Google’s, and the spam check on the form, which comes from Cloudflare and sets a cookie of its own. The fourth is the page counter described further down, which records that a page was opened and not who opened it. Beyond those, our host keeps ordinary server logs of the requests it serves, including the IP address a request came from, the same as every web host on earth. Those logs belong to the host, we do not read them and we do nothing with them.

The form asks for your name, your email address, your phone number if you want to give it, what the piece needs, and a description of it. Name, email and description are required, because we cannot answer without them. The rest is optional and a blank field costs you nothing.

When you press send, the form posts to a small program running on our host’s servers. That program turns what you wrote into an email and hands it to Resend, an email delivery service, which delivers it to the shop. That is the whole journey.

Your message is not saved into a database, ours or anyone else’s. There is no database. It exists as an email in the shop’s inbox, and briefly in the operational logs the host and the delivery service keep of the traffic they carry.

We use it to answer you about your piece. That is the only use. You are not added to a mailing list, because there is no mailing list. Nothing you send is sold, traded, or handed to anybody who is not part of getting the message to the shop.

The form takes photographs, and they are the most useful thing you can give us. A picture of the whole piece, the damage close up, and any maker’s mark or label tells us more in ten seconds than a paragraph does.

Your browser shrinks them before they leave your device, so a modern phone photograph arrives at a sensible size rather than as forty megabytes of email. They then travel exactly the same path as the rest of the message: attached to the email that reaches the shop. They are not uploaded to an image host, they are not put into storage, and there is no gallery of other people’s furniture sitting on a server somewhere.

One thing worth saying plainly, because most privacy policies would not bother. A photograph of furniture in a house shows the house. Look at what is in the frame before you send it. If something in the background is nobody’s business, crop it out or describe the damage in words instead. We will still be able to help.

If your piece comes into the shop, your message and its photographs stay in the inbox as part of the record of that job, in the same way any email about a job does.

We do not set cookies. The site does not need them, so there is no cookie banner either. That is not a boast, it is just what a static site is.

Two things loaded on the contact page can set cookies of their own. The first is the map. It shows where the shop is, comes from Google Maps, loaded in a frame. When that frame loads, Google can set its own cookies in your browser and can see your IP address, exactly as if you had opened Google Maps yourself. What Google does with that is Google’s business, governed by Google’s privacy policy. We have no control over it and we receive none of it.

The second is the spam check on the form itself. It comes from Cloudflare and is there to tell a person apart from a script. Loading it means a request to Cloudflare, and it sets a cookie of its own to remember that the check has passed. It is a security control rather than a tracker, and Cloudflare does not use it for advertising.

One more thing loads, and unlike those two it loads on every page: a counter that tells the shop how many people came and which pages they read. It is Cloudflare Web Analytics. It sets no cookie and stores nothing on your device. It records that a page was opened, roughly what part of the world the request came from, and what kind of browser asked for it. It cannot tell one visitor from another, cannot recognise you on a second visit, and cannot follow you to any other site. The shop uses it to know whether the website is worth having.

Those three are the whole list. The fonts are served from this site rather than from a font network. The images are served from here too. Nothing else on any page talks to a third party. If you would rather not load the map or the spam check, stay off the contact page: the phone number and the email address are in the footer of every page on the site.

A short list, and it is the whole list.

• Netlify hosts the site, runs the small program behind the contact form, and keeps server logs of requests, including IP addresses.
• Resend delivers the email your form submission becomes, and keeps a short operational record of that delivery.
• Google serves the map frame on the contact page, and, because the shop reads its mail at Gmail, holds your message once it arrives.
• Cloudflare does two jobs. It runs the spam check on the contact form, which tells a person apart from a script and sets a cookie to remember the check passed. It also counts page views across the site, which sets no cookie and identifies nobody. Neither is used for advertising, and Cloudflare does not build a profile of you from either.

These are companies we use to make a website work, not partners we share anything with. None of them are given your details for their own purposes, and nobody is paying anybody for access to them.

Worth stating, because the absence is the point.

• No Google Analytics, no advertising or retargeting pixels, no remarketing lists, and nothing that identifies you or follows you between sites. The shop counts page views, and that is the whole of it.
• No cookies of our own, and no local storage holding anything about you.
• No newsletter, no marketing email, and no automated follow-up. If you hear from the shop, a person wrote it.
• No sale, rental or trade of anything you send. Not now and not as part of any future arrangement.

Your message is an email, so it lasts as long as an email lasts. It sits in the shop’s inbox until somebody deletes it. There is no automatic purge and no retention schedule, and inventing one for this page would be a lie.

The host’s and the delivery service’s records of carrying the message are held on their own schedules, which are short and measured in days rather than years.

Texas has a data privacy act, and it exempts small businesses, which is exactly what this shop is. Crown is nowhere near the thresholds that trigger California’s law or Europe’s either. So what follows is not us reciting rights you already hold. It is what we will do because it is the reasonable way to behave.

Ask what we hold from you and we will tell you. Ask us to correct it and we will. You do not have to give a reason and asking does not affect your piece.

The one thing we cannot do is reach into Google’s or Netlify’s systems and remove their own records. Those are theirs, kept for their own reasons, and we have no lever on them.

This site exists for people commissioning furniture repair. It is not aimed at children and we do not knowingly collect anything from anyone under thirteen. If you believe a child has sent something through the form, write and we will delete it without asking questions.

If what this site does with information changes, this page changes with it and the date at the top changes too. There is no mailing list to announce it on, so the date is the notice. It is worth a glance if you are about to send us something you care about.

Questions about this page, or about anything you have sent us, go to the same place as everything else. A person reads it.

The terms of use cover the other half: what this site is, and what nothing on it amounts to.