I’m sitting in the chair as I write – laptop on my lap, although in the interest of integrity, this post will appear the day after the writing… But, it is a blustery morning as a cold front is moving through. A few clouds are shadowing the morning sun at 8 a.m., the wind is blowing through the pines and it feels like it should be a stormy day even though the forecast is only for wind ahead of the front. Still, I love sitting in this chair, in a corner of my sunroom where I can see sky, trees and mountains and with windows open all around can hear the wind in the pines and at least imagine a dark, stormy day.

I’ve had this chair for 22 years. It has needed to be recovered for at least 11 years. The chair doesn’t look that bad in the photo, but up close – my beloved cat (first cat), Gus, used the arms for scratching posts. There are other runs in the fabric on the upper wings. I don’t typically notice. The ottoman, however, has deteriorated badly in the last year… It has been sun faded for a bit but in the last year…

…that cord is starting to bother me.

These pieces are well made Ethan Allen pieces, although ironically, the chair seat is too “short” for my height. I knew it when I received it, but I had ordered it special and we’d measured and I don’t know what happened. I have always loved the fabric and the wing back chair and ottoman were chosen to mimic a favorite chair and ottoman in my grandmother’s house. The only way I’m comfortable in the chair is with my feet and legs on the ottoman – but that is the point of the ottoman after all.

I bought these pieces when I was still living in apartments in Los Angeles. I don’t remember sitting in this chair much until I moved to Montana. In the first house I owned in Montana, the chair always faced the fireplace. It was at that time that I started spending a quiet half hour in the morning – praying, reading, listening. My dog Zack and cat Gus were with me – Zack on the floor beside the ottoman and Gus on my lap. Gus was a “neck hugger” – he would often wrap his paws around my neck and bury his head under my chin…my angel cat.

In the second house, the chair was in a corner surrounded by windows. I could see the wood stove and the fire in that house from the chair, but mostly I remember the company of Gus, Karl by now, and the view of trees, the hill behind the house and the sky.

Now, the chair is in the sunroom of this little house. The woodstove is in a different room although when it’s going I can hear the comforting sounds of the wood fire.

Everyday I look at the worn and frayed ottoman and think, “I really ought to do something about that.” I think about a new chair which would probably be the easiest thing to do – but I love this chair… I think about calling an upholsterer, but I would have to be without the chair for awhile and pick a new fabric. I do nothing about my chair. Despite it’s appearance, it remains my favorite place in the house to sit and think, write, read, pray, listen…in the company of my dog and cat.

My chair.

…and, another time, the story of the lampshade with the bullet holes…