Daughter Lise was rather appalled at our routine before sitting down for a meal. David and I checked the rungs beneath our chairs, upended them if necessary, and banged a rung back into place. The four wooden chairs had been with us in New York and were old, even then. John had glued them back together several times, but the glue had dried out. None of us wanted to hunt for the glue or find the vise that held the chairs together while drying. Only days before the end of Lise’s visit, the hunt was on.

We drove an hour to a thrift shop where we had bought dining room chairs a year or so ago. I knew they would have many chairs to choose from at a reasonable price. Only they didn’t. The whole section was closed off, because the furniture had been sent to a warehouse sale.

We drowned our sorrows in frozen yogurt on the way back to the car. The taste of various flavors were as vibrant as the colors.

Lise and I went to a thrift shop in Waynesville on a day when David was working. I told Lise there was only one kind of chair I would rule out before looking – ladder back chairs with rush seats like ones I had grown up with. There was a set of chairs that would have worked, but a matching table was included in the price. I had no place to put another table.

Did I buy them because I’m a miser? Yes, but the chairs were not uncomfortable. They will likely last the rest of my lifetime. My children can donate them to a thrift store if no one wants them. Here they are in their new home.