No They Are Not Alcoholics
Back in the days of the dinosaur, when I was a newly married woman, my father-in-law had to relocate his mother from her home to his own. She was lost and confused as she walked through the neighborhood, and it was determined that the best course of action was for her to move into his house. This left her three-bedroom house unoccupied, and we were fortunate enough to take up residence in it. It was fully furnished, including an exquisite dining room table, of which I still own the majority of the chairs, although they are starting to show signs of age.
Not all have been sent to the great dining table in the sky; some of the chairs have withstood the test of time. We have acquired newer chairs, but, being the thrifty individual I am, and desiring more seating, I have not been able to bring myself to part with the vintage chairs. Consequently, I chose to reupholster them – a task I have apparently performed thrice, considering how much material I had to peel off. I was reminded of the fact that, back in those days, the internet did not exist yet and if I had wanted to learn how to reupholster these chairs, I would have had to search for a book in the library.
Thanks to my husband, who always comes to my rescue when I become a bit overzealous in my projects and reach beyond my means, we were able to obtain a wonderful, simulated leather material in a stunning shade of brown. We discovered that the foam pieces we had were too big, so I had to cut them down before wrapping them in batting. To finish, I worked my arms off stretching the material over the foam and batting and securing it to the wooden seats with staples.
All things considered, I am quite proud of the outcome. Even though the chairs are slightly smaller than the new ones, they still blend in with the overall décor nicely. It is my hope that these chairs will remain with us for at least another decade.