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The Adventures of the Rocking Chair
or, Where Should We Put This Thing, Anyway?
I promised you the story of the Adventures of the Rocking Chair, and here it is.
Once upon a time, I went on a road trip with my significant other to visit family in Oregon*. And we happened into a shop that sells wood things made locally. In fact, many of the things were made in that very shop, as we discovered when we** asked and were shown the huge rooms full of uncarved wood, and the huger room full of tools and more uncarved wood, and the hugest room yet stacked full of uncarved wood and great big tools. Not to mention the shop across the street with the saw-of-some-sort that could cut a 20′ piece of wood. But in the front of the shop were gorgeous things: clocks, shelves, tables, bowls. And rocking chairs. They came in three sizes: small, medium, and large. First thing, we had to sit in them. Ahhh, comfy.
This is the first one I bothered to take a picture of:
We ogled. We asked the shop owners about the chairs. (We bought a couple of pieces of uncarved wood.) And then we left.
A few days later we were back in town, and back at the shop ready to choose a chair and make a deal. We sat in every single chair they had, including the dozen in a storage unit around the corner. We wanted the right balance of comfort for me, comfort for Ben (we’re not the same size), and attractiveness. They were all made by the same guy, so there wasn’t a lot of variation in style, but most of them were made out of very nice wood, and a couple were made of absolutely gorgeous figured wood. (I didn’t get a picture of the most gorgeous one. You’ll have to take my word for it.)
We hemmed and hawed. And finally we chose the same one I’d taken a picture of when we first saw it. It really is pretty. It’s a little big for me, and a little small for him, but better than any other chair we tried.
And we told them we’d be back in a couple of days to put it in our truck. Have I mentioned the truck? We have a FWD truck with an awesome cap on the back that fits a mattress and all of our camping gear underneath, so we can go camping in comfort and luxury, without the crummy gas mileage of an RV. So we figured, sure we’re buying a piece of furniture, and sure we have to drive it 500 miles home… but we have space!
See? It totally fits. (It’s behind the pillows. Yes, those are our pillows. We sleep on them. Also, they protect the delicate corners. Worked a dream.)
Here’s closer view:
The only question then was, where were we going to put the chair whenever we needed to put ourselves in the back to sleep at night***?
As it happens, earlier in the week we’d decided we wanted to camp at this one specific campsite, because everyone knows that Oregon’s campsites are the best evah. When we called to make a reservation, they only had a campsite with a yurt left. It’s more expensive, but it’s a yurt. We looked at each other and said, “Sure, that sounds like fun.”
Turns out the yurt is basically a tarp-covered frame with furniture inside. The windows were all velcro’ed closed, so it smelled mildewy and awful. Also, we would’ve had to strip the bedding out of our truck and put it on the bed in the yurt. We looked inside the yurt, and we looked at our comfy mattress in the truck, and we said to ourselves, selves, we said, we’ll be much happier sleeping in the truck. And the chair can sleep in the yurt.
So that’s how the chair ended up sleeping in its very own yurt that can sleep six plus furniture.
The next night was slightly less exciting for the chair. We hadn’t made reservations and we couldn’t find a spot anywhere we wanted to campâ€ , so we ended up at a Holiday Inn Express. It was really nice. The pillows were nice, the mattress was nice. Having a place to rest and change so we could go out for dinner was nice. Our pillows stayed in the truck, cushioning the chair as it slept.
The next morning we hit the road, refreshed and excited to find somewhere nice to camp. Maybe somewhere along the Avenue of the Giants. But lo, it was not meant to be. There was smoke from a fire somewhere in Oregon. Once we got beyond that, it was hot and icky. Once we got beyond that we were back in civilization and there was no reason to try camping. Instead, we stopped at my grandparents’ house, where my aunt had just arrived for a visit.
And because we are weird, and we really like our setup in the truck, we slept in the truck outside, while the chair slept in the house.
Everyone admired the chair, and we felt quite pleased with ourselves and ate too much ice cream, as one does, and we left for home the next morning.
And we all lived happily ever after.
* Gorgeous up there, by the way. I really liked being in the middle of nowhere. The only downside to small towns in the middle of nowhere is that when you ask the gas attendant^ if there’s a coffee shop with WiFi anywhere nearby, she literally laughs out loud.
^ Cuz Oregon doesn’t let you pump your own gas, you know.
** This is the euphemistic “we” used by couples. In this case the “we” didn’t include me, though I did follow along.
*** We did, in fact, try to put the chair into the cab of the truck. Because of the runners, the chair was just a couple inches too big, no matter which way we angled it. And then as we tried to pull it out again, I felt like the guy with the couch in DIRK GENTLY’S HOLISTIC DETECTIVE AGENCY, who gets his couch stuck halfway up the staircase in his apartment building, and then when he models it on the computer he finds there’s no way the couch could’ve gotten into that position without knocking a hole in a wall. If you haven’t read it, you should totally read DIRK GENTLY. It’s Douglas Adams. It’s hilarious. There’s time travel, ghosts, and a couch stuck in a staircase that couldn’t possibly have gotten there. And a dodo.
We did remove the chair without removing any part of the truck.
â€ We stopped at one place by the beach. Ben went into the restroom, I did not. He left without having used it. Apparently it was really really bad.
I went away and did ALL THE THINGS! Disneyland, Oregon, a gorgeous wooden rocking chair, I had my picture taken with Pluto* and my sisters, and I bought a silly tiny mad-hatter-does-tinkerbell hat. And we made saurkraut! Not at all in that order.**
I want to tell you about all those things because they were fun and silly and I have PICTURES. (Not enough, though, because my dad has a bunch of them, and my aunt does, and other people, and I haven’t gathered them all to me yet. And also because I forget to take pictures.) But it’s going to take time, because I’m a slow story-writer, which might not be obvious when you only see the output (or you listen to me talk), but is totally obvious when you’re in my head. Or when you know that I started composing the Adventures of the Rocking Chair over a month ago, and still haven’t finished it, or even gotten the pictures in order. I’ve been busy, I swear.
In other words, this is the post to tell you I have stories to tell you, but it isn’t actually the stories, because they aren’t written yet, but I want to get back on the blogging thing today, even if it’s just to say I’ll tell you stories later. And I have Writing to do now***, so I’m going to go do that, and I’ll get back to you with stories later.
Here’s the silly hat:
* Who I thought was Goofy, because I’m a spaz and forgot which one wears clothes.
** And if you’re my friend on facebook (or my friend in general), then you might’ve heard about most of it already…
*** Umm… after I finish getting distracted making myself silly avatars on the internet. I can’t claim that’s Writing, not even a little bit.