Sunday, November 25, 2012
Tale of two chairs
Grandson sat on this little chair today to have a snack, as he has on occasions before. Years and years ago (when dinosaurs roamed the hills and plains of Scotland and woolly mammoths trumpeted at night and I was just a little girl) this chair sat with other identical chairs in the Sunday School room at our church. I and my contemporaries sat in them. When our children were small, the church replaced these chairs with stackable ones and sold the old ones off, this example to me. Our children then sat on it when they were little. (The other day, Son-in-Law 1, who is a slender person, sat in it. He fitted. I don't think I'll try. I might fit in but I'd be embarrassed if the fire brigade had to be summoned to extract me.)
This chair, on the other hand, used to belong to my maternal grandparents. I was given it when my granny died and my grandpa moved in with my parents in 1980. It sat in Granny's sitting room, which was only ever used if they had visitors. I have no idea where they got it. Maybe they bought it new from a shop when they got married in 1921. I'm fond of it. Grandson likes peeping through the bars and giggling.
(I apologise for his lack of trousers in these photos. We'd just got him up from his nap and hadn't yet completed his ensemble. He's wearing manly tights with his vest poppered underneath. You can get away with that when you're one.)
What's that sound, you ask? Well, it might be the sound of the bottom of a barrel being scraped. Only five more days of NaBloWhateveritscalled. I really must do something to report on. I did make macaroni cheese and shortbread yesterday but that doth not a blog post make. Not like chairs.