Sunday mornings have become a highlight of the week. There's something that makes them feel a little different than Saturday - Perhaps it's a little easier to forgive ourselves for staying in bed an extra hour or if we're extra lucky, not even changing out of our pj's at all. Especially if it's a morning where the high is negative 5 and just the thought of leaving the house is enough to cancel all plans for productivity.
It's rare in our house, but I look forward to those glorious Sunday's with no plans - To actually have a few hours which you can dedicate to reading a book, making waffles, or taking a nap by the fire (a tip we've taken from our pup who really knows how to relax). I recently spent a few hours engrossed in Humans of New York which was a Christmas gift from my Dad. I had been following on Facebook for a while and the different tales (whether harrowing or happy) always inspire me so it's nice to have a piece of the collection at home.
But these days, where I'm sitting is more important than what I'm reading - This chair may be a new addition to our front room but comes with a history years in the making. A few months after my Grandma passed, I brought this chair home from her condo, where it sat in the corner and ended up being her favorite spot. We spent a lot of time together, her in this chair and me on the couch nearby, gossiping about life (some things that we never told anyone else), all the while Andy Griffith blaring way too loudly in the background. We would undoubtedly share a piece of chocolate from her kitchen and she would share the story of the latest book she was reading while I might show her pictures from recent outings with friends. We were a great balance - Her, reminding me of how simple life used to be and me, keeping her abreast of current culture, even though life truly moved way too fast for her (and all of us, for that matter).
As time goes on, I miss those visits more and more - Our chats were free of judgement and negativity...they were heartfelt, nostalgic and always full of support, her being my biggest fan. In terms of style, it's not my first choice but this is appropriate, because she felt the same way about my ripped jeans. I've added a few touches to make it my own but this chair isn't about appearances...it's about exceptional memories. While I'd give anything to see HER sitting in this chair instead of me, I'll settle to enjoy a Sunday morning from the new best seat in the house.
What is your favorite way to spend a Sunday?
Do you own any furniture that holds sentimental value?