Recently, I adopted another member into my family of "Cherished Chairs." It's the sort of thing that just happens... no planning.This time it happened at a supper at First Lutheran Church of Norway Lake. Paul and I joined the line of folks waiting to buy dinner tickets. As we inched forward, we came to the first of many long tables filled with craft and "pre-owned" items that were being sold as a fund-raiser. Between the first two tables was old wooden spindle-back chair with a bright pink price tag on it. I leaned forward to read the tag. . . $5!
In my head I said, "Sold!" but outwardly I played the part of a real expert. I tested it to see how sturdy it was. I looked under the seat to see what kind of wood it was made of. I ran my finger along it's sleek lines and felt it's somewhat dimpled complection. In reality, I didn't care about any of that. I just plain wanted it and that was that. Paul kind of rolled his eyes but he knew in the end, the chair would be mine. He'd been down this road with me before.
I have a certain weakness for chairs...especially if they are all alone. If you've ever been to an auction, you've heard them refered to as "odd." I've always wondered about that. Does being alone or one-of-a-kind make one odd?
Some day, my children will hold an auction to get rid of all my old stuff. And as people wander among the rows of cherished chairs, I'm pretty sure, someone will refer to me as odd.
I'm okay with that.
