There are elves in them thar mountains

I did a wicked thing. I bought a rocking chair. Do I NEED a rocking chair? Well, no, not exactly. We have two of them on the front porch, actually three if you include Ken's wicker one. And one in the nursery area that someone gave me. But.... it happened when we went up to Liz' athletic banquet at her college, up in North Georgia. North Georgia is a magical, peaceful place. When you breathe the clean mountain air up there, you get just a tiny bit giddy. Could be from the altitude, but it's not really that much further up.... could be that we are not accustomed to clean air.... or it could be that everywhere you look, you see rolling hills and green trees, birds, little cabins and old homes. It entrances you. So you do impulsive things like: buy one of those pecan rolls like they used to sell at Stuckey's (and eat the whole cotton-pickin' thing); go into a cutesy boutique in town and buy a shirt that costs $35 when your usual M.O. is to frequent the thrift store and buy a $3 one with your spare change; go into a restaurant on the river and throw down $48 for what should be a $15 dinner; and then, the worst, go into a humble and innocent-looking hardware store in said little town and sit down in one of their Amish rockers. Don't do it. There's something strangely Elvish about it. Not talking about Elvis here, people.... Elves. Like in Lord of the Rings. Or like the Ring in Lord of the Rings. My precious. Mm Hmmm. You sit in that thing and it calls to you. You have never been so comfortable sitting in something made of hard wood. The fella in the store encouraged me to go downstairs and sit in all of their Amish chairs. There must have been thirty of them, all different from each other. No factory-made stuff here. He said, "There will be only one that will fit you perfectly." And he was right. It was this quirky-looking rocker made of twigs and sticks. It looked like it might break if you sat in it, but when you did sit in it, it didn't budge a nail. It was just right. Not too short, not too tall. My head fit perfectly at the top and my hinder parts fit like a glove into the seat. Rocking it was natural, not contrived or difficult. I might just die in this chair.

 I asked Ken if I could have the rocker. It was on sale, marked down $60 off the original price (it still was not cheap). He simply said, "Save up for it." I said, "OK." He walked next door to another shop, perusing the University of Georgia clothing for babies. Yes, baby clothes. We have two grandbabies and one on the way. Interesting how things change along the way. He had no idea what was about to go down at the hardware store. I didn't either. The hardware dude asked if I wanted to buy the chair. I asked him if they did layaway. He said yes. That was my answer. I had $50 from a little side job I had done, so I plopped that down for a down payment. Liz was with me and that girl should be a CIA agent, she was so locked down. We went home and I remembered the rocker. Since Papa had said I had to save up, I dutifully did that. Magically, through the miracles of technology and debit cards, when we picked up Liz a few weeks later, that rocker was sitting in her dorm apartment. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year (not to mention Happy Birthday, Happy Mother's Day and Happy Hanukkah!)