A visual showing why this chair isn't mine, apparently.
Dr Carter Godwin Woodson II, folks
Story:
Saturday afternoon, on a lark, I stopped in at the Architectural Salvage Warehouse, where I saw this perfectly made, unflawed Easter egg blue velvet chair.
It was $5. And comfortable!
I bought it on the spot. Of course—whaddya, nuts?!?
It’s only after I got it home that I realized I just bought a Ralph Morse chair. Their furniture was considered high end in the 1950s and 1960s, with their factory in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
And it's comfortable. Yay!
After cleaning it, I turned around to put the cleaning stuff away, and turned back around, and this happened.
I spent the day today slow-cleaning. Do you know what that means? I might, I don't know, wash the dishes, then I'll watch a quick stand up routine. Then I might sweep the stairs, and then make lunch.
The whole house is clean. I love it.
This cat, though, has lounged on this chair all day.
Here is the current status, and I'm not kidding. This really is what he's doing, as I am typing this:
Soo…
I guess my cat has a new chair. He's got good taste.
