A couple of weeks ago I wrote about how
we were moving my study from the nice quiet room in which it’s been for
the last couple of years to another less private space, so as to free up
a bedroom for Anne. Now, one of the chief pieces of furniture in my
study is a big comfortable easy chair and foot stool; that’s where I
usually sit when I’m working with my laptop. It’s an old chair, one we
inherited from my parents, and the fabric was finally beginning to fall
to pieces. So one of the first things we did was load it up and take it
down to the local upholstery shop to get reupholstered.

We were supposed to get it back toward the end of January, but
it came home today! I’ve had to work at my desk the whole time it’s been
gone, and so I’ve been missing it dreadfully. And now it’s back (joy!).

Of course, it’s not the chair I knew. It’s now dark blue, for one thing;
and for another, it has all new padding and springs. It no longer
conforms beautifully and comfortably to the shape of my body.
It’s like a new chair.

In short, it isn’t Broken Down — uh, In. That’s it. It isn’t Broken In.

Ah, well. Some things take time to mature.