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Time passed, mom gave the chair away. I see those chairs occasionally in advertising, or at antique shop. None, complete with bonnet & foot rest. A good thing, I would probably buy the chair, if it were complete.
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Dad had the worst end of the deal with that iron chair. Cleaning the patio, hosing it off, he had to move the chair at least once a month. Maybe it was him, glad to give the chair away.
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Now, easily moved garden furniture is the hunt. Aside from lightweight, it must have arms, a back tall enough to rest the head back, and nap. More than the personal, garden furniture must leverage having friends in the garden. Create a setting for conversation, laughter, lingering. Especially after meals.
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Pic, above, here.
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Have the good fortune of sourcing 3 of the wicker chairs, above. Each for a song.
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Amusing to see Freud in a photo new to me, attracted by the outdoor furniture, round circle of iron in the railing contrasting so well with squares of the French doors, and those chows. Freud. Not my cup of tea, more Jungian. Thankful for both.
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That balcony. So much narrative, without a word, wisely playing backdrop. Yet, take away the man/dogs, the backdrop narrative immediately jumps forward, owning the stage.
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These are the things I design in gardens. Some, too rich, think it's all about a few bushes and a little garden furniture. Those, are not my tribe.
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Garden & Be Well, XOT