Well, we finally did it. We bought a recliner.
It arrived, as so many things do, in a plain and rather large brown box. All day it sat in the sun in our yard guarded by the ever-so-fierce Seriously and her teddy bear.
My partner and I tried to carry The Chair into the house but alas, my wimpy runner’s arms were too weak. So I got the neighbor-who-owns-chickens to help and minutes later, the chair was where it belonged: in our living room.
Earlier this year when I was visiting my sister in Philly, my partner tore out our very old and very smelly carpet and put down wood floors.
When I returned, we quickly furnished the main part of the living area yet left the corner area naked.
It was naked for all of the spring and most of the summer and really, we barely noticed it since it was warm and sunny and the days stretched out past midnight and I was busy working and running and writing poetry.
Yet, sometimes when we talked our voices echoed in that bare expense of space and it was unsettling, as if we were living in a tomb.
Enter: The Chair.
I first noticed it while shopping at the Fred Meyer (oh, how I love the Fred Meyer’s!). It was beige and unassuming and yet carried a dignified air, as if just waiting for someone to sit down on it and begin reading War and Peace.
Finally, it went on sale. And when a coupon offer was tacked on to the price, I knew we had a new chair.
Isn’t it a beauty? And the most beautiful part is that we snagged it for about $250, a real steal. We favor inexpensive furniture so that we needn’t worry about dog hair and food spills and all of the messy, inevitable stuff that so often happens at our house.
I almost can’t wait for winter so that I can curl up on The Chair and read for hours as the snow falls outside and the moose tear our bushes all to hell.
Big news: Kevin Brennan’s new book Fascination comes out this Monday (!!). And he’s tempted us with a sneak peek, too. Check it out here.