The Flower Chair

A few minutes ago, I was sitting cross-legged on my flower chair by the fire with a zebra coffee cup on the blue table and a book in my hand. 

 

It's the same scene that played out early last Saturday morning as well.  Before the text to Karen that sent off the day of random. 

 

You see, that flower chair doesn't really belong in the living room by the blue table and the fire.  But it's still there.   

 

It's still there a week later after a random Friday night in which four friends held wine glasses in their hands and pushed chairs as close as possible to visit in a way that hasn't happened for so long.  Life gets busy, crazy, and in the way sometimes.  So when the life crazy parts briefly and allows for talking until past midnight, you embrace it and squeeze hug it.  Right after you set out the cheese, apples, dates, olives, and other wine night musts. 

 

 

While you sit with music floating in the air, you send up a how did I get so lucky to have these kind of women in my life.  The kind that just say whatever it is that's on their minds.  The kind that are happy for you and all that's going right.  The kind that share where they are and it makes you a better person for it.   

 

Then, the next morning you wake up and walk out to living room to see the effects of the circle of talking and you leave it - just as it is and grab a blanket and a cup of coffee to keep the feeling. 

 

The rocker was moved back to its spot on Sunday but that flower chair is still sitting there in the middle of the living room.  Last night it was a landing spot for parents who were taking their littles trick-o-treating in the cold.  They warmed their hands while I let their kids run wild and encouraged the wild by adding to it myself.  You want another piece of candy Brooks?  Sure thing buddy.  You want me to flip you upside down and tell you in a silly voice, "Love you Hazel?"  Sure thing.  You want me to pull all four of you in close on the loveseat to tell you a whisper story about your Auntie Em?  Sure thing. 

 

I think that flower chair in the middle of the living room is just right.  It begs to be sat on and it makes for the best kind of circle visiting.  Yet another reminder of the perfect tends to come from the imperfect.   

 

It also makes for a win of a spot to drink Saturday morning coffee out of a zebra cup.