Wicker

Oh, wicker furniture irks me.

Back in the day, a former boyfriend convinced me that wicker furniture was cool. Yes, I was young and naive and I bought a wicker coffee table for the living room. The wicker weaving started to come apart and it poked at me as I walked by.

I insisted it get replaced, but no. I was too poor to replace it. So it stayed. And mocked me. Poking and unraveling just to torture me.

When this former boyfriend left, he took the stereo and left the wicker coffee table.

When I moved to SF, the wicker table followed. The beau thought it would be nice outside. And there it remains. It's weathered and still unraveling, but it's prominently featured in the backyard. It's holding some gardening supplies now and I think it's found it's place. I, too, have found peace with this piece of furniture.