The Adirondack Chair

It's by the "Bear Chair" Company, and it's also called a Muskoka chair. I've been asking for one for about twenty years, and wanting one for about twenty years before that. Hubby gave me one for my birthday this year.

My grandparents had two of these chairs at their house in the country. Which burned down about 40 years ago. I loved those chairs. They're comfy, and their arms are wide enough to put a drink on (my favourite part!). I also like that they're made of wood. Natural. A connection to the earth.

Well, earlier this labor-day weekend (oh, you don't scare me - I'm stickin' to the union!) I decided to take it out of the box and see how bad it could be to put the thing together.

See, all these years of whining about wanting an Adirondack/Muskoka/Bear Chair did not prepare me for receiving one in an un-assembled state. I was somewhat dismayed that neither of my Knights-In-Shining-Armour offered to put it together for me, but I put it down to both of them wanting me to show the world how I was a woman who could not only bake a cake, but put together a complex wooden structure, using man-tools, as well!

Unfortunately, I have an annoying habit when I open a box that comes with pieces, screws, and instructions. Yes, I confess - I read instructions.

And much to my horror, the instructions said I had to PREP the wood. Not only apply some kind of stain or waterproofing, but before I could even start doing that, I had to sand every piece first.

I stood there staring at the pile of wood, the bag of screws, and the instructions, for quite some time, contemplating ignoring the instructions altogether and simply putting screws into the holes. That's what I really wanted to do, you see, so I could be sitting in my Muskoka/Adirondack/Bear Chair DURING part of the labour-day weekend.

But alas, years of experience have taught me that unprotected wood rots. And, having waiting forty or so years for my chair, I figured one more weekend wouldn't actually kill me.

So I began the process of sanding on Saturday. Today I applied Thomson's Water Seal. 

But while I was painting, something wonderful happened. I started to remember my dreams.

Not plans for my life. I mean dreams that come in the night during REM sleep. I had entered a meditative state that approached the moments before falling asleep, and my dreams began playing to me while I painted.

No, there were no fumes. I was in the garage, sitting by the wide-open door.

This was real. This was a "Zen and the Art of Archery" moment. It arrived all by itself when my mind was quiet and it was wonderful.

I didn't understand the dreams any better with my waking mind, but it was a very pleasant experience.

The moral of the story is: It's fun to put things together. Wood smells nice, and quiet time is valuable even though you don't know what's going to come out of it.