This chair came to live at my house a couple of years ago.
I remember Lena and I had gone to a moving sale. I think I actually spotted the chair first, but didn’t check the price. When she saw it, just a few seconds after I did, she looked at the fetching (appealing) price and the discussion ensued. I claimed it because I saw it first, she claimed it because she thought of it seriously first. Then I said I needed it. She just wanted to sell it. She finally relented and said since I was going to actually use it, I could buy it, but if I stopped using it, I’d have to sell it to her for the price I paid and let her sell it. We mentally shook on it. Deal.
Now, the picture isn’t quite the before shot. The hideous, 80’s, green, fake linen fabric was actually stapled underneath. It sat in my foyer like that for these two years. I’d thrown some somewhat better fabric on top of the green, but hadn’t settled on any fabric I wanted to use for it.
Lena’s been gone from this world for a year now. I do miss her, especially while watching American Pickers. Mike and Frank’s friendly relationship is much like mine and Lena’s was. But, now that she’s not here to say anything, I can sell the chair myself. Is that tacky of me? I decided it wasn’t quite the look I wanted, but it’d served a purpose. Filled a hole in the room.
The front room at the shop for the fall season is all woods, primitives, blacks, cream and rust and I thought the chair would fit just fine. It was a Labor Day project. Rip off that fugly green and put on something more appropriate from my stash. But look what I found under the icky green!
(That’s cotton around the joints.)
Someone, a long, long time ago lovingly nailed a piece of tin in the seat when the caning or leather broke out. I adore it! Can’t you just see the scene? The husband sat (or stood more likely) in the chair, breaking the seat. Wifey gets upset because that was their good chair. They can’t have anything decent because he won’t take care of anything.
After much crying and feeling sorry for herself, Hubby was feeling mighty guilty. He loved his wife so much and couldn’t bear seeing her so upset. So he promised to fix it for her, good as new. But there was no money for cane or leather. They did, however, just put tin on the barn roof and there was some left. That should fix it right up.
And it did. Made it usable for a while, but the nails started to come loose and poke them in the back of the thighs and rip their clothes. Then the front of the tin split and it was finally relegated to the barn. Husband and Wife passed on from this world, but Chair stayed in the barn, year after year until one day, a stranger came and started poking around, moving this, digging in that. Stranger carefully brushed the hay and cobwebs off Chair and took it home with them.
It eventually found its way to a nice family, and Wifey thought the tin seat a bit unsightly. She found a lovely green fabric to match her decor and tacked it over some foam. When they moved, poor Chair wasn’t deemed worthy of their new home. Now it’s living at my house and since I’ve found the tin, I’ve fallen in love with it. I think I’m going to have to enjoy it for a while longer before letting it go to a new home – if ever I can.