When I was ten or eleven years old I once spent a week or so with my cousin at our aunt’s house in Georgia. Cutting up, laughing, giggling, we had a great time though very likely drove the adults in the house crazy. With a houseful of relatives and limited space, Barry and I slept on an old fold-out bed in the garage. Sometime after we had knocked off the wrestling, the whacking of each other with pillows, and finally grown quiet with sleepiness, in that dim and deepening calm cousin Barry suddenly chirped, “Button, button on the bed, can’t you see my butt is red?” That pretty much started the laughing and wiggling all over again.
In the past couple of weeks I had occasion more than once to recall my cousin’s childish, but nonetheless clever and accurate complaint. Only this time it was in reference to a chair I was sitting in for long periods of reading. Since the weather has turned colder, I have moved to a warmer room for reading. As it happens, the amply cushioned chair in that warmer room works very much like the old fold-out bed immortalized by my cousin in loopy verse.
Time for a new chair. Too bad the uncomfortable one is such a handsome old piece, but it may do better on exhibit with a card explaining it as something people used to sit in. Not wanting to spend a big amount, a friend suggested a nearby discount store carrying furniture at low prices. Found something there I liked and gave it a fifteen minute sitting test, after which I felt certain that in the long run it would treat my butt just fine.
It got a longer testing at home this afternoon and results were good. The picture here is the new chair with a crocheted throw made for me by a valued friend. She couldn’t have known beforehand that the wool she selected would turn out to be the perfect match for my new reading chair, but something guided her to the best possible colors for a chocolate brown chair.