The Chair of Frivolity

I bought the chair.

The Viking gave me permission last night. Not that I need his approval, per se but I have trouble giving myself permission to do frivolous things, or at least things frivolous on the scale of the chair. The chair is a frivolity, no doubt. But I wanted it, and the Viking was amused and indulgent.

I went this morning and got it. It was still there; I can imagine only that the upholstery (even uglier than I remembered) was a sufficient turnoff. The upholstery is also more shoddily done than I remembered. I will have to save my shillings so I can get it reupholstered sooner rather than later. The chair itself is Victorian, but elegantly restrained. It is even the right scale for the place I wanted to put it (I knew it would be, but it is always lovely to find out that you're right).

In other news, apparently the Flower-Arranging Sash could not stop talking about how much fun it was to arrange flowers with Sis and me yesterday. Well, I suppose she did have fun -- she was doing all the arranging, and ordering the two of us around. But Maman is thrilled and I won't say anything to burst the bubble. I will be good. I will.

I must find my insignia. They won't let me in the Hall on Saturday without them, and I am supposed to sit in the box with Maman while the election results are tallied. I thought I had put the insignia away with the white gloves (since I rarely need one without the other) but while I can find several dozen pairs of white gloves, I cannot find the pins. There will be very bad times indeed if I don't find them.

verso - recto