One person's junk is another person's treasure.
I have a small lean to style shed attached to the North side of my house. A picture on facebook brought up the memory of my Grandmother's chair that she had sitting by the sink in the entryway at the farm. The cloth covered seat (she had covered it with an old flour sack) was dirty from use. Many times when we would stop out to visit Grandma she would be sitting on her chair washing fresh chicken eggs.
Grandma was a short, heavy farm woman that never stopped moving. Whether it was collecting eggs, pulling weeds from the garden, or cutting out animals from scrap paper she was always on the move.
The issue with cell phone pictures is that sometimes they have a mind of their own. Someday, I still hope to have this chair sandblasted and repainted.
I have a small lean to style shed attached to the North side of my house. A picture on facebook brought up the memory of my Grandmother's chair that she had sitting by the sink in the entryway at the farm. The cloth covered seat (she had covered it with an old flour sack) was dirty from use. Many times when we would stop out to visit Grandma she would be sitting on her chair washing fresh chicken eggs.
Grandma was a short, heavy farm woman that never stopped moving. Whether it was collecting eggs, pulling weeds from the garden, or cutting out animals from scrap paper she was always on the move.
The issue with cell phone pictures is that sometimes they have a mind of their own. Someday, I still hope to have this chair sandblasted and repainted.
 |
| Treasures? |
No comments:
Post a Comment