Chairs
I have a hard time walking away from one that I like. Even though I have plenty. I could easily fill a Doors of poster, only mine would be called Chairs of Holly.
Green, blue, formal, antique—there is no real criteria except that when I see one that makes me want to sit and ponder…it comes home with me.
When I started my work at The Connecticut Forum, I brought simple matching grey chairs with wood trim into my new space. I could see the unspoken head scratching on the faces of co-workers, that the new girl thought it necessary to bring her own chairs.
"I have a lot of chairs,” I finally started saying when a colleague would politely admire my decor. If they only knew…
It’s like Shel Silverstein said in his poem Hector the Collector:
Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.
Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul--
Loved them more then shining diamonds,
Loved them more then glistenin' gold.
(Although truth be told, unlike Hector, I do prefer diamonds over chairs.)
I have a fond "Holly has to get these chairs" memory. 💕
ReplyDeleteI've come to accept a house of mismatching chairs. In fact, I cant imagine having a full set - way to practical for Holly.
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