What has happened to all the chairs since 2015?
That was when the first book about the lives and times of 17 different chairs was published.
Sadly, I know for a fact that one of the chairs that featured in that book is feeling far from well today. When someone departs this mortal coil and an old home is scattered to the four winds, fortune seldom smiles kindly on a solitary, slightly neglected old chair. What can you say, apart from that the chair can look back on a long and no doubt eventful life –- at least for the first one hundred years or so?
Another chair from one of the books has swapped its home in a country cottage for a place in the city. An exciting development from the chair’s point of view, especially as, despite the rather disorientating move, it has stayed with a member of the family that originally owned it. All that now remains is to get acclimatised, find its right place in the apartment, settle in and settle down – just like its owner herself has had to do. So, both are happy and looking forward to the hurly-burly of their new urban existence.
Some of the other chairs I have been in touch with were auctioned off following the sale of the large detached property that had been their home for decades. It was much the same story as for the chair in the previous paragraph. They, too, had suddenly found themselves surrounded by the buzz of city life, albeit in an old, old house filled with antiques. And then, hey presto! Before you knew it, they became the subject of one of those ‘at home with …’ magazine features. Overnight the chairs became celebrities in their own right – and their new owner hurried off to buy a copy of Please Be Seated, maybe as the prelude to doing a bit of genealogical research.
The Russian chairs were also put up for sale at a prominent auction house, where the aforementioned book was used to testify to their pedigree.
So, during the past six years or so, quite a lot has happened, not least in my little world of chairs, and many of them can now look forward to exciting new adventures.
In the forest close to where I live – the one I mentioned in my most recent book, where I was once surprised to come across a dead tree lovingly decorated with hearts in red and violet, pink and white – I made another discovery not long ago. When my dogs and I revisited the beautiful tree trunk, there was now but a single heart left there. What had happened to all the others? It was such a strange feeling to see just that one little white heart remining.
Maybe someone had overlooked it, as the white colour was so discreet compared to the bold red and violet of all the others.
I’m happy, however, that the tree trunk bedecked with all its hearts has been preserved as a picture in the book. A wonderful memory from 2020.
Gun Bjerkander Handberg