There’s been something of a clear out of Mr. Waffle’s parents’ house and my parents’ house over the last few years. Herself has taken a chair from each house and they now reside in her bedroom which is a space rich in chairs.
I can’t help feeling that each of them somehow encapsulates something about the families that Mr. Waffle and I grew up in. Mr. Waffle’s parents have provided a rocking chair which they bought when they were living in Costa Rica; my parents have provided a regency striped gossip chair which my mother acquired at auction.
I wonder will herself bring them to her own house someday or whether (very likely) they will now live in a corner of my house forever.
The gossip chair is beautiful.
I think so too. It’s actually a surprisingly comfortable piece of furniture and ideal for its original intended purpose.