This wonderful old chair of mine is such a comfort come the end of the day. Yes it is treacherous, and devours my belongings and time in a gluttonously unacceptable manner, but I am okay with, wait maybe not okay, reconciled, to the loss. Especially in August. Hot long August; the month of sloth.

August is so appropriately named, really say it slowly and draw it out Auuuuuuuggggguuuusst. See, there is lots of angst and huffing and puffing in August.

September is not much better weather wise, but somehow, the popping up of apples and pumpkins, and the deep colors and calm I associate with fall, have me cutting September quite a bit of slack when it sizzles me to a crisp if I happen to forget, and foolishly venture out in the middle of the day.

Still,  if I do manage to forget, or must go out, and the unavoidable heat induced exhaustion descends, my pal, my never complaining piece of poaching upholstery, is always waiting, quietly, patiently, to sooth and ease the steamy glowing crinkles from inside out. Oh yes, my chair brings comfort to the body and soul. For it is where God finds me still ❤️


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