Tuesday, February 21, 2006

No West for the Reary

Legend has it that during the days when an American pioneer traveled in stage coaches it became cost effective to put as many people in the coaches as possible. So limits were set on the amount of luggage one could carry, and the amount of space they could take in the coach.
In short, there was no west for the reary.

Things have changed. Now we live in a world of big lounge chairs for folks who like to watch television after a long day of work. We have one of those infamous recliners in our basement, it is well loved, and it shows.
In theory the chair is Daddy’s, but if the cat want’s it, she gets dibs.
But the chair, which we were given second hand more than fiver years ago, has finally collapsed under the weight of all that loving. So yesterday we went hunting for a new recliner.
As we were talking to the furniture store owner, trying to figure out the new fangled “rip chord” method of reclining, she mentioned she was in the process of ordering “Big Man” recliners.
That caught our attention. My husband is 6 foot 4 inches, and husky. He qualifies as a big man. So do his brothers, who may not be as tall, but they are certainly much wider. They frequently come to visit us, plopping their Buddha-like bulk in our basement.
Since she didn’t have any big man chairs in stock, we stopped in another store to check them out, sure enough, they are big.
Big enough for me.
Big enough for DH.
Big enough for both of our children to sit in it and have room for a bowl of popcorn between them. The chairs are even big enough for the brothers-in-law.
Alas, they are not beautiful.
So once again I face the battle. Do I want my family basement television room to be comfortable or beautiful? http://www.stantoninternational.com/442_in_sweet_destiny_chianti.htm Of course comfort will win the day.
While we were there I spotted an adorable little sofa and ottoman. The sofa was shaped like half of a parenthesizes and curled around the ottoman in what can only be called a charming matter o). It was the sort of sofa one would expect to find in a tea room or a parlor.
It is not the sort of sofa one would expect to find in a house with two pre-teen boys and a large man. *sigh* I suppose one day I’ll have my Relief Society parlor. But it’s not going to happen for a while.
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In other news ~ today is a rather vivid example of the places I go with my newspaper job. This morning I finished up a story about the chemicals produced in the brain when we fall in love, develop bonds of companionship, and stay married long enough to develop mature love.
This afternoon I will be attending the funeral of a 21 year old woman who was raped and murdered by a 17-year-old boy in the group home where she worked.
Tonight I am going to serve up crock pot chicken to a group of church ladies.
It’s quite a cross section of what life has to offer, isn’t it?

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Face it sis we are "draft people" and draft people (according to people who design stuff) don't do cute or frilly.

Karen said...

I want a new love seat and chair but I can't afford cute or frilly (or deep rose microfiber) just DI chic. :-(

Gwyn Calvetti said...

It is a cross section indeed. I'm not sure I could shift my thinking between those two extremes.

We go for comfort in this house, too, even though dh is just a little Italian guy. ;)

Anonymous said...

Hum---comfort,--beauty,--comfort,-- beauty. HELLO do you plan to actually USE this room or just look at it? Even the Relief Society Ladies want to sit in a big goofy recliner! Years of life with men and boys tells us If you want them to use the furniture go for comfortable and ugly. If you want them to destroy the furniture go for cute and tiny. Your cute and tiny years have not yet arrived. Alas, t'was ever so. Even girls only like to look at cute and tiny not actually use it. As for your schizophrenic day. It will keep you interested if weary. Good Luck with the many details of your life!

Anonymous said...

2nd comment of the day you lucky girl. Maybe you could sit in the big chair with DH curled around you in what could only be called a charming manner.