Sewing room chair and cushionSlowly but surely I have been converting a spare bedroom into a combined sewing room/guest bedroom.
I was searching for a nice chair for my sewing room, but most of the ones I have seen in the office supplies stores were not appealing to me nor to my caboose. I decided to check online and (shazam), there it was, at Pottery Barn. I immediately fell in love and saw myself sitting on it, but my wallet coughed and choked as if being strangled . (Drama Queen)
Being a domestic house keeper has its quirks but no mula. (Like work a little, rest a little and catch some TV in between and back to the same cycle.) I knew I was leading myself in for a big downfall because I set my heart on this particular chair, but it was out of my budget. So my search begins again. At least now I knew the proper name of the throne I was looking for. (Banker's chair), and a banker I was not!
|Pottery Barn swivel chairs' only $429.00. Ouch!!!!|
I found many of them on line. Big ones, medium ones, little ones, new ones and used ones, but all too pricey for me. Just when I thought my wallet had keeled over, it let out another cough and rolled over dead. It was too much torture for the poor little coin holder.
One day I got the urge to check out this scary and chilling world called "Craiglist". I prepared for it and covered myself with a blanket and let my eyes peep out. Wallaaa!!!! There is was. I fell over with excitement. This frightening land full of never ending horror stories was not so scary after all.
Yeap, there it was, a lonely picture of a solid wood bankers chair looking so pitiful and affordable. My wallet came back to life. It yawn and two big old nickles rolled out. They looked right up at me like two big eyeballs with the look of lust. "Shame on you!", I said.
Right away I grabbed the phone and with my quick trigger fingers I dialed the number. Disappointing..., I got the answering machine. So I left my name and number. Two seconds later my phone rang. It was the man from Craigslists.
He told me the chair was in pretty good shape with some nicks and scratches and if I was serious he would drop the price by $5.00. I told him I wanted it and asked if he could hold it for me till the following day. Well of course I should have guest. His reply was, "Sorry if another person contacts me this evening I would have to sell it." (Sales ploy, and I fell for it).
Now I had to work some magical spell on hubby. (Ali Baba and Abracadabra). It's six in the evening and about an hours drive to see this banker's chair in the dark. I told the man I would be there in one hour and he reply, "Okay, I"ll have to go dig it out," and he gave me an address. (Was it buried underground somewhere?)
Hubby was not to happy about this adventure but he knew it was better for both of us if I were a happy wife. He entered the address into the GPS and asked me what is the number 60 for? "I believe the man said to look for storage number 60". "Oh boy, this is going to be one of your wild adventures," he said. I bit my lip and said, "Lets roll before it gets too dark".
Upon arrival I thought to myself, "Lets turn around and go home where it is safe". There must have been about 300 storage units. The roads were not paved so it was going to be a bumpy ride.
The place looked like a graveyard for storage containers. Kind of freaked me out. There were no live bodies onsite. Could this be the boogeyman's place? I knew hubby was thinking the same thing, but he was not about to turn around and go home without my chair due to the thing about a happy wife.
We drove slowly up and down a few lanes looking for number 60. Further on down towards the end of one lane we spotted an old pickup truck parked in front of a storage unit and the garage door was open. We approached slowly and all these horror stories from the Chiller TV station started to rewind in my head, and I clearly said, "I'm not getting out of the car". "What!!!!" said hubby. But just as soon as we pulled up, there it sat, in the center of the entrance to his storage unit. Awww, my throne!
The man seemed to be interested in showing us all the junk he had collected through the years. We paid him the $25.00 dollars, loaded the chair and got the heck out of there.
Over the next weekend Hubby painted the chair white and I made a cushion. At the end I was a happy wife with a happy caboose.