This old rocking chair

I love rocking chairs.  I just do.  Since I entered my "adult" life, I've always felt I would not be complete without two specific pieces of furniture.  A porch swing and a rocking chair.  Rob got me a porch swing for Christmas last year, so I considered myself 50% complete at that point. 

I assumed we would just purchase a chair at some point and that would be the end of it.  But I had forgotten something very important.  My grandparents' chair.  I remember when they got it-I fell in love, and thought my grandparents must be rich to afford such a neat piece of furniture.  I was kind of a silly kid, but I guess that's not the point of this story.

I sat in it as a child for endless hours in the summer.  It rocked waaaaay back, and had cool bendy wood on the sides. Watching TV under the AC window unit.  Shelling purple-hull peas and butter-beans. Drinking coffee, because my grandmother didn't think I was high strung enough, apparently. Doodling. Whatever.  My grandfather would tease me from his recliner, and eventually talk me into getting up so "we" could have some ice cream.  So went pretty much every summer from as early as I could remember until I was a teenager.  I was never too cool to visit Granny and Grandpa.  They had all the best treats, they let me stay up as late as I wanted, and adventures were endless in the country.  My grandfather passed away when I was 18, and I haven't stopped missing him yet.

Anyway, several times a summer, I would say, "when I grow up, can I have this chair?" They always said, "Of course, but why would you want it?"  "Because I just like it."  "Okay, then you can have it."

I went to college.  I went to grad school.  I moved a hundred times, and then a hundred more.  I got married. Somehow, I forgot about my chair; I never saw it in my grandmother's house.  But this past Thanksgiving, my grandmother asked if I wanted to take my chair home with me. It was in the shed behind her house, a little smaller than I remembered, covered in dust, and badly needing a new seat and back.  But Rob took it apart with my Dad, and we brought it back to Birmingham in the Sentra.

Amy helped me pick out new fabric at Hancock, along with quilt batting to make the new seat and back comfy. Rob got a jigsaw and cut out some new wood.  I took wood cleaner and peeled back years of dust and grime.  I recovered it, and it looks far from perfect since this was my first 'upholstery' project.  The age shows, and this is what I love about it.  Now I have what I think is the most special rocking chair in the world.

Best Day Ever.