Chair one is an old pale blue Lloyd Loom chair, a bit greyed with age and battered where the cat has tried to use it as a scratching post before I shooed her away. It has an old pink cushion on it with a frayed bit in the middle because lots of people have sat on it. It used to be in McMum and McDad's bedroom in Wylam.
Chair two was a Christmas present. It looks French, because there's a painted rose on the back of it. It has a wicker seat and back, and an elegant curl to it. It is pale, because it's not very old. If you sit in it, the cats watch carefully though half-closed eyes, and as soon as you get up, they rush over and nick your place.
Chair three was probably really cheap, but it's the most comfortable chair in the world. It used to live in Scotland in a log cabin overlooking Loch Tummel in the Highlands, and sat by the window inviting people to relax and look at the mountains and sky.
Before that it belonged to my American grandmother. I don't know why it is so comfortable, it just is. The prongs for the arms and legs keep pinging out and having to be rammed back into place again. It's as light as a feather, and rather ugly, in a very appealing way.
Chair four is a really old nursing chair with a badly-carved top. It is very low and has low arms and a high back and is made of turned wood, and it's very dark, almost black. It has a wicker seat that has collapsed but it's still irresistible to sit on. There's a pale green cushion on it with some very torn patchwork in the middle that McMum started and didn't finish. I find bits of it all over the house.