The Perfidy of Aging

I had very strong opinions as a youth. Decided tastes, too. And I was perfectly content to believe that those opinions and tastes were fact, not preference.


Alas, how age betrays us. Things we once thought solid and firm become flexible, saggy even.

How is it, that I, who once despised the color orange as a hue only fitted for pumpkins and autumn leaves, have come to have such a passionate love affair with an plush orange chair from the 60's?

Early-onset dementia?

I can't help it. Originally discovered in the abandoned house next to my sister's (don't worry, they bought it, so it's OK to forage), I laid claim on it, fully intending to cover it with something. In the meantime, it sat in the old house stocking up on must.

Last week I finally brought it home and set it in the living room. Where I---gasp---liked it! 

Maybe I'll cover it with something eventually, but for now, I'm enjoying it's sunny orange glow just the way it is.

Besides, Hobbes is thrilled to have a chair that matches his awesomeness.