Do you remember the first Mother Goose rhyme you heard? If you are like me, probably not. It seems as if those were always there wafting in and out of the sunny safe breezes of childhood. “Little Boy Blue come blow your horn” or “Bah, Bah, Black Sheep”. The cadence of the melodies, the rhythm of the tale, the words learned through repetition all are inherent in many of our childhoods.

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Squatty Rocker Inheritance

Do you remember the very first storied piece you were given, rich with the history of the person who so generously gave it to you? Or would it be the first piece you actually found and bought for yourself that conjures memories of a certain time or place in your life?

For me the first piece was my Granddaddy’s old oak rocking chair that was left to me in his will. Actually, he had three or four rockers and instructed for me to choose one. As a teenager I knew immediately which one I wanted. It was the oak “squatty” fellow with the split down the middle of the seat being held together with a metal brace underneath.

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