Ignore the less-than-flattering photo of me modeling one of my very favorite childhood toys, my koala puppet Fuzzy Wuzzy, who has clearly seen better days and looks like I stuck my arm up the ass of some road kill with scary orange eyes. The real point of this picture is the excellent view of my parents' house. And my parents' asked me to not post any pictures of their house again after this. (However, if you come to the BlogHer Conference in Chicago this summer, perhaps I can arrange for a personal tour. I have connections.)Anyway, I am sitting on the new recliner. Sister is sitting next to me on the old recliner with the holes in the cushion that are covered by a hideous croched blanket my Bubbe made. (She always picks questionable color combinations for her knitting.) The old recliner was supposed to be thrown away when the new one was obtained, but was not for some reason that had to do with my Bubbe insisting that we keep it although she does not live there. Whatever. At least there is plenty of seating for everyone, and a good range of choices between the rust-colored sofa, the blue recliner, and the brown leather recliner with blue, purple and white blanket.
Behind the chairs is the coat closet with only one bright blue folding door remaining. Next to that is the stairs. Notice the smoke detector with the lid hanging open. At the top of the stairs, barely visible, is a gazillion gallon humidifier that broke at least 10 years ago. Laundry is sometimes plopped on it, although for now there is a broken black & white TV hidden in the darkness.
One modern amenity visible in the kitchen is my parents' spiffy new oven. Hurray! (See parents? I ended this on a very nice note.)
It is not a blue recliner; it's green with thin brown stripes-Dad's choice- Bubbe's b-day gift to Dad. I insisted on keeping the old recliner, not Bubbe. It is more comfortable, although I can't extend the leg rest and actually recline because of the partition behind it.
ReplyDeleteI can't believe your parents even let you visit, ha,ha..
ReplyDeleteIf I was them I'd be frisking you for a camera whenever you came over..
i love it. my parents broken recliner sat in my dad's extremely messy home office forever. the back was broken but gingerly placed back on it. it buckled under loads of crap and was finally put to rest.
ReplyDeleteMy stepmom also had an old recliner. It was beat up and broken, and nobody was allowed to sit on it because it had been her grandma's. Then once while she was sitting in it, my dad laned down for a kiss and the chair snapped to attention, which also snapped his leg. After the cast was gone, so was the chair.
ReplyDeleteGosh, I don't know why your mom would be irritated, with all the nice things you have been saying about their home...
ReplyDeleteWe have to compare notes. Cheap paneling, a chair born before I was (and reupholstered almost as long ago), a squeaking recliner that sounds like a flock of seagulls, oh my.
Oh, my mom is irritated because I got the "facts" wrong.
ReplyDelete