There it sat in a room full of other assorted bits of furniture at the Salisbury Antique Emporium. The Chair. The warm gold of the fabric (and it is very gold) pulled me to it like a moth to a flame. It was a wing chair, but more. The tag attached to its wide back called it a "fan-back" chair. As I stood there taking it in, I felt like its wings were just waiting to enfold by body.  You need me it said every so gently. It didn't scream—oh no, it was much too refined for that. 

I sat down. Rick said it looked like the chair had swallowed me up. It was so cozy. So comfortable. I could see myself curled up reading, my feet tucked up underneath me, my head lying on one of its wings. I have always wanted a chair like this. I loved it. 

Rick said no. We don't need another chair for no one to sit in. Where would we put it? I had thoughts of exactly where to put it and how to rearrange existing furniture to make room. But I could see his point. So I caved and we drove home without it. 

Yet last night I was still thinking about it. I just couldn't get it out of my mind. I decided to sleep on it. Think about it carefully. Did I really need this chair?

This morning when I got up I was still thinking about the chair. It seemed to speak to me over the 20 or so miles between the Antique Emporium and our house. You need me. 

So I called the shop and asked them to please take a few measurements for me so I could see if it would fit where I wanted it too. It had looked enormous on the floor of the shop. He was nice enough to do so and also he rechecked the price, which I thought was way too inexpensive ($99). Yep, he said, $99 as if he couldn't believe it either. 

It took a bit of cajoling to get Rick to agree to "go and look at it one more time" since he knew there was probably no way we would come home without it.

As we were carrying it out the door the owner said to me "now there's a chair you can waller [sic] around in and in just about any position." Wallow around. What a perfect way to describe just how I was going to use my chair. Wallow, or waller [sic] if you're from the South. 

I can't wait for all the wallowing I am going to do from this day on.

(Pillows in chair woven by Rick; throw over back of chair knit by Yours Truly)