What’s almost as good as midcentury modern? Arts and crafts!

Once again, the Alameda Flea Market came through for us. We headed out yesterday with one goal: find a rocking chair built to the specifications listed in my last rocking chair blog. I sat in about a dozen rocking chairs yesterday (poor me!), and as with any piece of furniture, our primary goal was to strike a balance between comfort and looks.

The first chair we thought about rated a 9 on the comfort scale, and a 3 on the looks scale. Alas, I didn’t think to take a picture, but imagine worn used-to-be-mint-green upholstery, a wide, alien-head-shaped back, squat bottom, and pounds of overstuffed comfort. And, best of all, a $40 pricetag. After playing the get-up-sit-down game a few hundred times, we decided to keep walking a few rows until we found something more our style. As our friend put it, it was shabby chic, except not chic.

That was in row CC. (All the way in the back.) By the time we got to row X—about an hour later—my legs had begun having an avid conversation with my back, and I don’t know what the topic was, but I have the distinct feeling my back is libertarian to my definitely socialist legs. I was slowing down, and I knew we’d have to make a decision. “Two more rows,” I said, “and we’ll go back for the chair.”

Rounded another corner, and there she was: a sturdy arts-and-crafts Mission style rocking chair, with faux leather upholstery, tagged at $60. Far smaller than the Green Monster, but less cozy, and leaps more attractive. It could use some TLC, for certain; the wood could use a good polish, and we’ll need to prop a pillow in the back. But it rated a 7 on the comfort scale, a 7 on the looks scale, and a 10 on the price scale, and besides, what California home doesn’t need an arts and crafts rocking chair? We paid for the chair on the spot and came back for it an hour later.

Extra bonus: we found a Le Creuset fireproof casserole for $33, which cooked up some lovely scalloped potatoes last night.

The Teacher's Pet, The Spitfire, The Rocket Girl, and The Assassin

One last note: Saturday night three Devil-Ettes and I played hostess at a benefit for Creativity Explored, an art studio for developmentally disabled adults in the Mission; we did coat check and danced in the window a bit. And only three people figured out I was pregnant—a bartender actually offered me absinthe. The girls tried to tell me was a compliment, but I think everyone just assumed I had an ill-fitting costume. The bonus of having a night off of visible pregnancy, though? I can eat salami and cheese from the platters without worrying about getting the hairy eyeball.