What seems like ages ago, we inherited a rocking chair from the better-half’s mother. The cover was some horrible yellow chenille with massive stains. Naturally, we put the rocker right out in plain sight because that’s the way things work around here. I don’t know that anyone other than the MIL ever sat in it. Why would you? Gross.
The Fuzzy and Anna Mae team discovered they could pull horsehair and stuffing out of the bottom of the chair. They moved to their new home. I tidied up and then our newest addition, Lucy (yes, she’s a permanent resident), found out she could pull stuffing out of the bottom of the chair.
Those cats were the last straw for the ugly cover. I finally went to the fabric store today and now the chair is recovered. I wouldn’t spend too much time staring at details–not that you would, you are the internet.
As you know, I’m not much of a shopper. I just don’t like looking for anything. If I know what I need, fine, I go out and purchase it. Having to go to the fabric store is like having dental surgery. I know nothing about fabric and people who inhabit fabric stores are crafty in a completely different way than I am. Basically, they can take string and make it into something amazing. They may as well be turning iron into gold as far as I’m concerned.
There’s really no need to wonder what took me so long to recover that chair. As it turns out the two people working in the store were young, knowledgeable and didn’t look at me like I was a nube.
I have some leftover fabric…wonder what I can do with it?
All that stuff about shopping and craftiness? Ditto! Sweet job on the chair.
Thanks. It isn’t perfect, but it looks pretty darn good!