My mom's family is known for a couple things:
They are ALL artistic. They are all into plants (excessive gardening, which I refuse to ever start). They are all strangely humored. And they all PICK UP FURNITURE PEOPLE PUT TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AND BRING IT HOME (and usually there after paint it, if it is at all paintable.)
And I, though I am my mother's daughter, my grandparent's grand daughter, and my uncle's niece, have mocked them all for the furniture scavanging.
No, it isn't like they take garbage off the side of the road, or nasty, smelly, dirty, gross furniture. Just sometimes people put out stuff with "FREE" signs and if it is nice, vintage, or able to be painted, they typically grab it. (the catch is that usually they don't need the stuff. They just like it. It is usually cool, but they just need to find a place to put it.)
But now, I am eating my words (as my boyfriend would say "How does that Crow taste?").
You see, Sunday at 4:16 pm I sent my mother this text:
"it's official. I'm a Kiss. I just got an orange chair off the side of the road. Ur people have ruined me and I am hopeless. :p "
Response
"Laughing. The gardening is coming next."
Yes. I did. I did it. The deed I said I would never do. And this is the post I claimed I would never subsequently make. *BUT I WILL STILL NEVER GARDEN!*
I saw a family putting out a bunch of furniture (they said they were remodeling their basement). Sitting on the curb was a deliciously orange, fuzzy, squishy vintage chair. I did not need a chair. I already have a chair and a couch in my room, along with my obvious bed. I am not lacking in seating. But it was ORANGE. And ever so fuzzy and squishy. And Vintage (and in good condition)! I think it was also calling out my name, but I am not sure...
How do you say "no" to that!?
So I threw it into my Durango and off I went, feeling completely beaten in my fight against my genes. But as soon as I got it home and realized it rocked and swiveled, and that it was the right fit for curling up in (i cannot and will not sit with my feet dangling. ever.), I didn't care anymore. I knew it was the perfect chair for me. It is so incredibly cozy, and don't worry. I washed that cushion and then MADE room for that lovely chair in my bedroom.
The chair is cozy. "Crow" is sort of tasty. And I am happy.
The end.
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