Sitting at the nook

When my mom and dad last visited us, Mr. Urban and I became proud owners of an old desk.

Well I should begin by letting you know that my mother and I are polar opposites, and yet madly in love. For the most part, we see the world quite differently, and we each secretly pray to convert the other to our way one day soon… But a day is not complete without at least 3 phone calls and a Skype video conference. The magic glue that keeps us together is laughter, shopping and food. We find each other funny. When one of us talks of her day, the other just laughs. We have so much to talk about every day. After three or four phone calls in a day, most people’s arsenal of chit chat and stories would have long dried up… but not ours. We usually end a call with “Oh, remind me to tell you of such and such tomorrow”.

When we shop together, naturally we always want the others’ opinion of our wares. But having such different tastes, the only response to give is usually a very kind “It's SO YOU!”

Except sometimes, when all the stars are perfectly aligned, there is a sweet union of the minds. Such was the case with my beloved new old desk. My mom found it while visiting the antique store behind my house. She found it charming. I, who have never had the desire to own anything previously owned, who likes the new and shiny and avoids using romantic words like vintage in referring to old, used, stuff, knew that I wouldn’t like it. Nevertheless, my dad, UrbanBaby and I followed her back to the store for a viewing of the desk.

It was one of those moments: A look at the charming desk, a smile at each other, and the lovely feeling of harmony between a mother and a daughter…. followed by a look at my dad “Would you please carry the heavy desk home ?”

Since, the desk has become somewhat of a nook for Mr. Urban and me, where he works late at night and I surf and email and shop online. We peek over our computers at each other and chit chat. We keep pretty stationery in its drawer, and pile up our summer books on top of it. It lets me use the word vintage with quite some authority, and miss my mom one last time before the day's end…

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