Sometimes treasures can be found at times and in places where you least expect it. I've known this for a while. Op shopping/thrifting addictions give you this rather magical knowledge. I'm always on the lookout for a good chair to sit and read in. We have chairs of course, and I spent a long time searching for the perfect lounge suite, but a good armchair has always eluded me. It's one of the things I keep an eye out for in my op shop trawls.
But nothing is ever quite right. Too big, too small, needs work, clashes with everything else... And while I know treasures can appear out of the blue, a couple of weeks ago I wasn't expecting our normal school run route to yield anything more than a stress headache. It is that kind of drive. Trying to make sure everyone has their hats, jackets, homework and lunchboxes while I keep my eyes on the road, listen to the afternoon radio news program and give motivational speeches about how your siblings should be your best friends and NOT your sworn enemies.
But suddenly as we neared home, on a rather desolate grassy verge, I spotted a potential treasure. A great arm chair. No two great arm chairs. Actually an entire lounge suite! Of modest but shapely proportions, this was my kind of antique setting. Carved heavy timber and totally solid, the springs seemed in good condition (I know because I got out and checked, ignoring the LOUD groans of four hungry children who were desperate to get home for afternoon tea). Great style with the woven cane panels in the sides and back. Not too big, not too small. The shapely burgundy cushions (burgundy, my favourite!) were as heavy as lead, possibly made with horse hair, I was guessing. A sign of great quality.
While I sighed and walked around and around the set, umming and ahhing, the kids remained unimpressed.
"We've got nowhere to put it Mum!" yelled Eleanore sticking her head out the car window, ever practical.
"Dad won't be impressed." Jesse assured me.
Yes, thanks for that.
I reluctantly drove on, trying to tell myself that it was not for us. "I hope someone who really needs it picks it up!" I declared, only a tad resentfully.
The next morning as we turned down the road alongside the local railway line, we craned our necks. The grassy verge was its usual scraggly self. And completely empty of chairs.
"All gone!" Archie declared a little sadly as we drove morosely by.
I turned up the radio volume on Classic FM. Funeral music. Excellent.
Ah well, it wasn't meant to be.
Or was it?
Forty minutes later as Archie and I again drove up the street, having safely delivered the older three kids to school, I screeched (sort of, carefully, you know what I mean) the car to a halt. One of the armchairs had miraculously reappeared on the side of the road.
Ahhhh. I looked in the rear vision mirror and smiled at Arch.
He smiled back at me.
Some things just ARE meant to be.
Chair now safely ensconced in our back room. TICK.
Timber polished and shining. Cushions vacuumed and plumped. TICK.
Matches everything else perfectly. TICK.
Me excited at amazing second chance to get new/old piece of furniture. TICK.
Husband grudgingly accepting. TICK!
Kids learn valuable life lesson that indeed treasures can be found alongside the road.
Do you have a favourite roadside find?
What piece of furniture have you found or inherited that you absolutely love?