One Gross Chair
I was thinking about this chair while winding down from a day of trying to trap a new hawk. I set up today to do one thing: go driving around and looking for a roommate in the sky. A few years ago that would be an insane dream. Insane to think I would become a falconer. Even more insane to think a week day would mean driving around on back roads and not sitting in an office chair. But that is what I did. I had done the work in advance to clear the day. I had chores done early. I had alarms set to be on the road with a friend by 7AM. I had nothing to do but drive, look up, and hope. It was exhausting as hell.
Which is why I was thinking about this gross ass chair. It isn't nice. There is no argument to be made for it. But it's here because my life has been driven be a set of choices that prioritized Thursdays with hawks above whatever is new at CB2. That is not a knock at the CB2 crowd, either. There is a lot to be said for gorgeous home and an interior that Dwell Magazine subscribers would covet. That home is worth more than mine. That life has value. Those living rooms have choices just as interesting and myriad as any crappy chair with hawk shit on it.
But I can say that nicer things don't always mean a nicer life. My life would make many people miserable. But tonight I sat happy in that ugly chair, re-watching the Season 4 finale of Orange is the New Black and crying at how touching it was. I was petting the sheepdog sitting beside me who was still panting from racing up a dark road to bring back lambs on the lam. I don't ever wish I had a husband here but I shake at the idea of living without a working dog. The things he does for this farm should be on a bronze plaque so big passers by stop to read it.
I'm sure at some point I'll chuck that chair and I won't feel bad about it. Tonight I am fine with it. No part of me ever looks at it and says "Chair, it's time to go" because choices like that lead to spending money on furniture and not feed. My home is scrappy and may never be more - but it is mine. And every fray on that old chair is a reminder of a million little choices that lead to long days like today where you get to feel September happen to you, not around you.
I wish bad furniture on all of you. It comes with interesting Thursdays.