An ugly chair named Bular

  I have been on Chair Quest for a while now. The original plan was the bring the beautiful brown couch up from the living room. Sadly, there wasn't enough room for it, nor for the old green recliner. I scoured various online sources and couldn't believe the cost for a damn armchair. 

As I was already out for groceries this afternoon, I stopped by Goodwill. I didn't expect to find much. But I was gravely mistaken.

It sat next to a dented file cabinet and some tangled netting - stout and somewhat chubby, a collection of nicks and missing bits on the thick, lumpy wood, and a plaid-ish fabric not produced since the mid 1900s. 

If furniture could be personified by a mythological creature, this chair was definitely troll.

It was absolutely ugly. How ugly? The good people at Goodwill had been marking it down by dollars for weeks. I bought it for $2.29 and then drove home to collect Better Half and the F150. This wasn't a job for a weensy Escape.

The young men that loaded it into the truck were so happy to see it depart. This poor thing must have been the most unwanted item to ever be dropped at a second-hand store. I confess, I was feeling sorry for it at this point. The damn thing looked forlorn in the weak afternoon sunlight. 

Getting it home wasn't too bad, nor did it give us any grief as we walked it up the wheelchair ramp. My mother watched us as we went along.

"It's my new ugly chair!" I proclaimed a bit too gleefully for my own good.

"It's not ugly. It's pretty!" said my 84-year-old mum. She does have a chunky wood bedroom suit that weighs a million pounds, and there are chunky 1970s accents all over the house. 

Honestly, after we snugged it into its new location, the chair didn't look half bad. I covered it with some white blankets until I can figure out a slipcover pattern for it.

The dogs are absolutely delighted with the new thing to sit upon. I'm delighted. This is the most comfortable chair I've ever owned.  It's wide and deep, which means I can add a pillow for lower back support. It's low, so my feet can touch the ground. It's just the perfect lounge chair for us.

Alas, Better Half won't sit on it. He says it would turn him ugly. His loss. I named the thing Bular in honor of the squat and ugly, broke-horned troll from a Netflix series.

 Followup: I unintentionally fell asleep in that chair last night. It was heavenly.