An invitation to peace

Every home has a place where good intentions go to die. In some homes, it’s the kitchen counter. In others, it’s the dining room table. At my house, it’s often the laundry chair. 

And, no, I did not buy a laundry chair. My chair just morphed into that over time. Not with dirty laundry. Not with clean laundry. Not with folded laundry. Just laundry in need of the occasional minor miracle.