I love my chair in the morning, where I sit with my cup of coffee in hand watching the morning news. Dakota (our Australian Shepherd) laying at my feet and Brody (our Lhasa Apso) sharing my chair, which is the only time he is allowed, and then only by invitation. It is where the fog clears from my head and I figure out what my day will actually look like.
I don't know why, but chairs have always played a significant role in my life. When I was in Jr. high school my dad married my step mom and they immediately began refinishing antique furniture that they had acquired; some in the past and other pieces together. One day this rocking chair showed up in our living room and became my favorite chair to sit in. It's rock was long and smooth. I would rock, for what seems hours in it. This particular rocker was acquired from the church that we attended when I was growing up. It was used in the nursery for years and years. The next Christmas came and I sat in the rocker while my brothers and I opened our gifts. We seemed to have finished and my dad said there was one gift left for me and he told me to read the tag that I had not noticed hanging on the bottom rung of the rocking chair. The tag read that the chair now belonged to me. I still remember how how happy that made me as I now see it sitting in our nursery for our grandchildren.
The red chair was given to me by my great aunt, in not so good shape, and we used it in our early married years, with kids, until it broke down so much that it was retired to storage. We had a small white terrier dog at one point that would drape himself across the top of it to watch our front yard through the window that it was near. I never got rid of it because it was old and from a family member. My husband got tired of it taking up space in our present garage so he told me to do something with it (I think he regrets those words). I took it to an upholstery shop that also refurbishes furniture. I chose the fabrics and wanted it redone as close to it's original design as possible. The cushion is filled with down and the beige fabric is camel hair, like the original had. The fabric colors are different than the original but I wanted something more whimsical and fun.
This chair was, also from my dad and it reminds me of my bedroom that got refurbished to look a little more feminine after my step mom entered our house. My dad, three brothers and I lived at the house for three years before he remarried. My bedroom and its decor were never a priority before she came to live with us. This chair was my desk chair in my college dorm room and it now graces my present bedroom. It originally was a high back but a previous owner cropped off the chair back and left it short.
This chair is just fun to look at, I love the form and the dark stain. This came to us from, I believe, my husbands dad's family, it may have been my husband's grandmother's chair.
I call the collection of six of this chair my "Dr. Seussian" chairs. I wanted to replace our old kitchen table chairs because they were wobbly and creaky and ready to collapse at any moment. My daughter, Robin, and I were at an antique store one day and she pointed these chairs out to me. At first I was unsure as to whether they would work in our farm house of antiques but she talked them up real big to me and we carted them off. Getting them home and around the table they grew on me. They are so sturdy that the grand kids can climb all over them and they don't fall over. Yes, Robin, you will inherit them someday (her finders fee that she determined while getting them home)!
And this little beauty was in storage for years and years. It was in the barn at Bruce's family fruit ranch in central California for as long as he could remember. When the family moved to Oregon in 1975 the chair came with and was put in storage. Bruce's dad passed in 2006 and in cleaning out his stuff we came across this rocking chair. But, alas, it was in bad, bad shape. The leather seat was shredded with the straw stuffing coming out and the wood was horribly weathered. So we hauled it off to the upholstery shop for a total overhaul and this is what graces our living room. We went to the leather shop in downtown and chose this motorcycle, flat black leather. It is sumptuous to the touch!
This chair we found in Sisters, Oregon on a road trip. It is a log chair with a carved seat and back that is very comfy despite it's hard surface. I like the rusticness of this one.
In growing up I was frequently at my grandparent's farm where my two aunts and their families lived on or near the property. My parents had divorced and my dad moved back to the farm, where he had spent his childhood. I was in a foster home at this time and my brothers were living with my mom. My dad had permission to visit me and take me to the farm for weekends and a couple weeks at a time during summers. I would bounce from one aunts house to the other and then back to my grandmother's when I wasn't out playing with cows, dogs, pigs, kittens or whatever animal I could find. For some reason I was always welcomed into their homes at a moment's notice and offered tea and cookies or even lunch if my spontaneous intrusion was timed correctly. I can still remember the smell of my aunt's houses; not bad smells, just the way that particular buildings take on a familiar scent. This child's rocking chair came from my aunt who lived on the east perimeter of the farm: The one who always had the huge vegetable garden in the summer with berry vines that produced amazing boysen berries. This rocker was hers when she was a child. My aunt passed a few years ago and her granddaughter was left with it but did not have room for it and wondered (I think with the suggestion from her mother, my cousin) if I might want it. I have never turned down anything with history from a family member (as the previous pictures depict) so I accepted it. And it was red! Apparently my aunt reacquired it as an adult and the chair was painted white and she had remembered it being red when she was young so she repainted it back to red.
I know there is futility in owning things but I have to say that I have always treasured a place to sit in the morning and contemplate my life and my day. As a child, a place to gather my meaningful possessions (note the Uncle Wiggly board game under my chair) and sit and think about what is really important. I still appreciate a good chair - a good chair with history.
