My husband, he knows me so well. He's such a good love. Below you'll see a chair. The chair. I decided, many years ago that I wanted such a chair. I had specific criteria. Tall arms, not the floppy kind that resemble a pillow. Big enough to sort of drown in, but not so big that it won't fit in our little living area. Soft leather. Oh, and on Craigslist or at Goodwill, for a pauper's price.
And I diligently looked, for this reader's chair. For years, I scoured garage sales, and Goodwills. For my patience, I was finally rewarded with just such a chair. For $20. And it has a matching ottoman. I love my chair.
I also realized that when you put that much hope and care and patience into finding just such a thing, there is tremendous joy in the restoration and maintenance of it. I spent time researching how to care for furniture leather and I find I get great pleasure out of the time I spend, usually once a month or so, using olive or coconut oil to keep it from getting dried out. It always looks so nice afterward and it keeps it buttery soft.
I especially love Saturday mornings in my chair, appointed with coffee and enjoying conversation with my love. Or, pinterest, although that's far inferior. But often I work from the chair, as well. Recently more that usual. AP noticed the other day that I was balancing; a computer, external hard drive, headphones, my planning calendar, my keep-track-of-everything notebook, some pencils...all on the broad shoulders of my stalwart and capable chair.
When I added the cup of coffee to my already precarious menagerie, he decided to intervene. He went in the basement and got the Milk and Honey sign my mom made. The one I've been saving to hang in my farm kitchen, since I have no place for it now. He brought it up and carefully dusted off the cobwebs and made for me a desk. It fits perfectly across the arms of my chair. I love using it, but I also love seeing it sitting in the corner of my living room, waiting for me. I think about mom's hands, smoothing the wood and her face bent close as she painted the letters. It makes me glad.
And I don't know if its the time spent working at home, or Spring being so verdant, but my impulse to nest seems to be returning. I've been something of a Jonah in those areas for a while now. I've been giving a lot of thought to why, but that's probably a post for another day. I've put some thought to it, but not enough to be clear yet, I don't think. Suffice it to say that my heart seems to be thawing along with the ground.
And with that came the itch to garden. Not that it makes a great deal of sense to spend copious amounts of time and money on that right now. We have so much coming up. But I just needed this little Spring time ritual. I went and got some plants for Byland. Just a few. At the greenhouse I noticed the most beautiful butterfly, clinging to a flower in the virile wind. I was just so happy for that moment.
I cleaned out this one little bed which had been piled over with leaves. I haven't really seen Byland in the Spring before. It's so beautiful. Wally and I were both glad to be out in the sun, to stretch our muscles and dig in the dirt. It made me want so much more of that.