The other day, I mentioned that I had purchased new-to-us chairs. Two of them.
What I didn't realize then was the treasure that I'd purchased.
One of the chairs I purchased is a 60's era sewing chair. A real, honest-to-goodness, made for sitting by your sewing machine chair. Not folding. Not dinging. It's petite - small in stature, but a nice solid weight. It has a lifting-up seat. Covered in a bad fabric, but that's easily fixed.
Just today, my daughter asked what I was going to put in the seat of my chair. I told her I wasn't sure, but I knew I couldn't put anything in there that I needed all the time, because I'd be sitting on it!
Just like that, it came to me. I told her I thought it should be our mailbox. That we could put notes to each other in it. Whenever we feel like it, we'll put a note in there. It's an idea I've been toying with - I'd heard of parents sharing a notebook with their kids - a place to put thoughts that is placed under the intended reader's pillow when someone had something to say or a question to ask. Questions would be answered, thoughts would be responded to, and the notebook returned to the original sender's pillow.
She loved it. She skipped off to write me a note. As I sat sewing, she came to me with a paper in her hand and explained to me that I needed to get up, but not look at what she was doing (she's as good at surprises as her father and I are). And after she'd done what she needed to do, I sat back down. She looked at me expectantly. "Should I look in the mailbox?" I asked. "Only if you want to." was the answer. I got up and looked. I pretended to be surprised (it's just what we do - Sarge will look surprised when he opens his Christmas gift, too.). Then she asked when she could expect mail to be delivered for her.
I wrote her a note, placed it in the chair and she came around looking not too much later. She told her brothers, one of whom left me a sweet note.
This is so much more than a sewing chair.