Day 141-142 – Treasures

Day 141 – One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, so they say. My husband has a saying as well: “There’s good wood in there.” I hear this often as we drive by left-over broken furniture on the side of the road. He has quite a history of saving left-for-dead pieces and giving them new life (or leaving them in the basement indefinitely.) Sometimes, it drives me batty. Other times, it’s pretty amazing.

Our neighbour two doors down noticed that Stewart grabbed a crappy old desk she left out to rot a few weeks ago. So when she’s spotted him outside yesterday, she offered him a piece of furniture that she doesn’t have room for anymore.

The desk he grabbed a while back was ick. But this… I’m ok with this.

Day 142 – Simple, warm, strangely comforting.

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Day 38 – Rockin’

Rocking chairs have magical powers.

When I was pregnant with my first baby, my grandmother insisted on buying me a rocking chair. At first I felt bad because it was quite an expense. But I’ve been in love with it ever since.

It supported me through hours of colicky cries.
It helped me when I was learning to breastfeed.
It served as a hiding spot and as a reading chair.
And today, before Beatrice’s nap, we rocked together in the chair. Next thing I knew, ten minutes had passed and Bea was sound asleep. I must have dozed off too. I woke up feeling all warm and fuzzy. Rested. Comfy.

And for once in a long time, I didn’t want to put her down. I longed for those early parenting days where 90% of your job was related to holding them and nothing else mattered. No other jobs. No other commitments. Just enjoying being a mom.

I don’t do that nearly enough. I should do that more often.
Yep, rocking chairs have magical powers.

Day 24 – Faces

When I was arrived at the Shenkman Arts Centre recently, I was greeted by a beautiful sight. In front of me was a chest of drawers, made of dark stained wood and these little off-white knobs.

The knobs got my attention. They all looked slightly different. At closer inspection, I realised why. Each tiny knob was a hand-carved face. Men. Women. All different emotions and expressions. It was fascinating. If I didn’t have something to do, I would have sat there and inspected each one by one.

I’d love to own a piece like that. Though I’m not sure I’d want all those tiny people staring at me while I slept.