Rolls Royce

I picked up this chair only days after I bought The Stepford Wives.

Again, I apologise for the wet summer, Murphy clearly saw me buying lawn furniture and enforced his law.

From the outset this chair, with it’s deep seat, adjustable back and rear wheels, has reminded me of a convalescence chair from a sanitarium in the 40’s. I don’t know if such a thing even exists, but if it did, it would look like this, and it would be perched on a grassy lawn overlooking a white timber fence, pining out to sea in the salt air.

I planned to reinvent  her  as something comfortable, comforting and nurse like – Agnes, Mable or Saidie…

I scrubbed her down with a wire brush and began the monumental task of sanding back her rusty limbs. And then it rained.

It rained every time I thought I would sand, and when it didn’t rain it pounded down scorching heat till midnight.

And I am thankful because if the weather hadn’t held off production on this one, I might’ve been done resurrecting Mable when quite clearly, this is Royce.

This might be one of those epiphanies that spends a year in the pipeline but it will be worth it – because I’m going to have this puppy dipped in chrome. If it’s the last thing I do.


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