the Chair of Many Colors

I finally brought it home. Finally. 

I had my eye on this old, paint splattered stool for, gosh, at least a year, maybe more. It was for sale in a local antiques mall, and I would faithfully visit it every time I stopped by. I couldn't figure out why I was so drawn to it. Other than the fact that I love old wood. And a lot of color. Splattered. 

Perhaps it was the turquoise paint... I finally realized this stool reminded me of my father. I'm not even sure why. I've thought and thought. I have a vague recollection of a turquoise bird house he built with my brother when I was very young. He didn't do things like that often. He had a workshop, had some tools, but my father was mainly a businessman. Strange, that an old battered stool with globs of paint would remind me of him. 
I am happy with the recollection though, and the connection. I do think it must be the turquoise paint, and all the splatters. I am very content with this stool reminding me of my father. He's been gone 13 years now. He was already in his fifties when I was born. I will be without him a long time in my life. It gives me unexpected and welcomed comfort to look at this stool and remember him. 

But I so nearly missed it, came so close to never having the chance to bring it home. The thought makes me shudder.

I wandered into the antiques mall just before New Year's, when to my dismay, the place was nearly empty. They were closing - it was their very last day! NO! I ran to where the stool had always been, only to find an empty corner. I was heartbroken. I had had so many chances. 

I inquired where the owner of the stool might be, and was stunned to find her out front loading her truck. The old stool? With all the paint? Please, where is it? It was already in storage... but she would be happy to bring it back for me - and sell it at a discount. Bless her! 

So that is how I finally brought my father's stool home. It must have been meant to be. 

Someone else decided they wanted a chance to be photographed also.

And when that cranky client left, this one decided she wanted a turn.

I'm ready for my close-up. Hellooooo!

Okay, I admit it. I had to have a turn as well :) What a great stool.