Footstools courtesy Lewis Bundock
Photobomb courtesy Sophie
Lewis Bundock came by this morning. He’s the man who, with his brother Jim, has kept my house together and gradually updated for the over-twenty-five years I’ve lived on Park Place Avenue. They are both responsible for my cozy cottage, for which I am grateful every day.
This morning, Lewis had smaller projects on his mind. He brought us two footstools. The one on the left, above, is a family treasure. In my childhood home, it sat in front of my mom’s wingback chair—which I now have—by the fireplace. It was perfect to sit on if you wanted to get right up cozy with the warmth of the fireplace.
In my home, that stool was still in front of the fireplace, and Megan particularly liked to sit on it. Finally realizing that I was not going to give it up, she said she wanted one just like it for the new house they are building in Austin. Meantime, the original stool had suffered a broken leg, so it went off to Lewis for repair. He not only does large-scale remodeling projects but also fine hand-crafted woodwork. He fixed the old stool and made the replica you see on the right, explaining he couldn’t exactly duplicate because of the age of the original. He couldn’t find the same piece of wood, but at first to my eye I couldn’t tell them apart. And I know Megan will be delighted with her stool—she’ll be here for rodeo in a few weeks and can pick it up.
Lewis also brought a surprise present—a hand-crafted cell phone holder. I’m sure I’m not the only one who inadvertently buries her phone amid a jumble of papers on the desk and then can’t find it when it rings. In addition, when I have my hearing aids in, as I should all the time, I don’t have to hold my phone to talk. So now I can set it on the holder and go merrily about my business
I know phone stores and Amazon and similar places are full of magnetic, plastic holders for cell phones—my sons have them in their cars. But this is hand-crafted and classy looking. I’m delighted to have it.
It’s nice to have something new as Christmas comes down. My tree now sits in the middle of my coffee table—a gentle reminder for me to take the ornaments off. The wreaths are gone from the doors; Santa Mac and my Jim Shores Saint Nicholas are packed away on a high closet shelf. Still must pack up the remnants of Christmas wrappings for next year that are strewn about in the bedroom. But that bare look of January has returned. I often think it’s one of the causes of SAD—seasonal affective disorder. If we still had all that bright cheeriness around us, we might not get sad.
Can’t resist adding a picture of Sophie. I see pictures of dogs and what they’re supposed to look like when told, “ You’re a good dog.” This is Sophie, trying to convince us she’s a good dog as she waits for a treat. You know what? She really is a good dog. Sorry about the backdrop--the junky corner of my kitchen. Note the stack of dog treat boxes.