Wicker is cool
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7zUD0i97t8cAPlLSyuyc1C1fLhsrWa5DSazduS2oUCzDo_Ro_U4msm4AxzVfifa1EZpn10uXjPSbp0mvIvJIhXPtbNSlqgfPUPYjXsly5Koz-YArXosUTemYgEh1OT2EIk3AsPA/s320/Yvonne+wicker+chair+and+cat.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlkvEVV2nebELjyJ-G3k05J9F9wcWlmr9Nu4K-8uX61mlxzEnl9f1MZ22e-Dr3sKBaM_yz6jz0E6yp4-PObRS8MYiHgvfkOtYijiHjduhSErY9e0r7oyWO4OH5OMPtw9wQAkjog/s320/Yvonne+wicker+chair.jpg)
Check it out, I am rocking the seventies, yo. There I am in Mom's favorite wicker chair with the family cat, Fluffy. She was something else. I am trying hard to get her to love me. She was too much of a solitary cat to find much interest in me. No matter. I looked good and that is what the 70's were like for me living in a house with wicker chairs, rugs on the wall, and macramé plant holders.
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