A little stool.
A brown leather, slightly wobbly, discarded, foot stool.
Sitting hiding underneath the table at the back of the junk shop.

I visited that stool about five times over the course of the week.
It wasn't the price that made me wonder, it was the clutter.
Was it fair to introduce more stuff to our house when we were trying to have less?
Was a foot stool a necessity, or a comfort, or an excuse for more crochet?

But I was in love.
There was no denying it.
And the little foot stool came home with me.

And I watched the space change when I introduced the newly grannied foot stool.
It somehow makes everything look cozy.
Not at all like more clutter.
And my heart is happy when I watch my farmer boy sit back and put his feet up.
The little foot stool and us, we were meant to be.
I'm on the hunt for another little stool now.
I need to put my feet up too, you know?
You know.

Have a happy weekend you guys. xx