Life's a Stitch

I'll just come right out and say it. I have an issue as a chair rescuer. You know those chairs, left at the end of the driveway with a hand written free sign taped to the back? When it comes to those, I have very little resistance, but only for ones that aren't upholstered or need little attention. My history includes amongst others: pub chairs, a rattan rocker, and a set of the blue plastic classroom variety.

In recent years I met someone else with the same problem. She even has a blog, a place to display her finds. C is annoyed that she has legitimized my habit. But the truth is, I've had this for a long time, prior to my husband as a matter-of-fact. 

Here are my two recent finds:

We've placed this one at 21-40 years old, probably one of the first official Panton chair knockoffs. B commented that it cups his butt perfectly.

I found this one on Mother's Day after our hiking/geocaching/picnic outing, where an annoying dog, bolted out of nowhere, jumped in my lap and stole my sandwich. Granted, it was an off leash area and it wasn't as annoying as the number of full poop bags we encountered abandoned by the side of the trail. Back to the chair. This one, an Ikea Poang was left at a bus stop. 

Looks like a comfy knitting/crocheting spot and where I might park my New Wave afghan when it's finished. 

The chair pictures were taken after wrestling the foam out of the cover, washing it and completing round two of the wrestling match. And it still needs an ironing. A lot of work for a chair that only costs $89 new. I guess it's the thrill of the hunt that makes it so addicting.