I have a chair. I found it on the side of the road. Yes. We’re sliding down that slippery, cigarette butt filled slope again.
I have a burlap coffee sack. Or two. I got them for free from a local shop.
So I have a chair and a sack.
Which is a good thing. Because my obsession with burlap covered chairs hasn’t decreased in the past 2 years. I figured it was a phase and I’d get over it once I saw burlap covered chairs all over Pinterest.
I just want a burlap covered chair even more.
These two years of waiting has honed my love though. I like the burlap to be old and rough. A little worn looking. I’m not a big fan of burlap that’s been recently stencilled with words like love, hope or joy.
It’s not my thing. Words as decoration in general are not my thing. Although I’d love a vintage sign that says Eggs or Poulet or something like that for the chicken coop I built. So words are fine for a hen house not a human house. There’s no explaining my psychopathic type of thinking. Sorry.
See? What’s not to love?
I have no idea when I’ll get time to cover my chair with burlap because frankly sometimes I don’t even have time to watch the 17 hours of television I like to get in every day.
But if I have, to I’ll make time. It can’t be any harder than making a chicken coop.