My aunt Alice Jane Headley married Glyn Jones, a pharmacist, in Conway in the early 1930s. For their wedding present they were given a dresser, a desk, a dining table and six leather-seated dining chairs, all carved out of Welsh oak.

Glyn, a jolly, portly man sucking his perpetual pipe, died in the late sixties. Without him Alice gave up and died shortly afterwards. They had no children; they had each other.

I inherited the wonderful Welsh oak furniture.

Then three years ago we got Bodoni the cat. Since then he has methodically destroyed the leather of all six chairs, sharpening his claws (purely out of vanity, because otherwise he never uses them) on the backs and seats of every chair. Our fault of course, because we should never have allowed him in the dining room. But occasionally he got locked in overnight, little sod.

Admittedly, the leather is about 80 years old, and the seats were saggy, so it really was time to bite the bullet and visit the upholsterer.

He gave us an eye-watering quote (that bastard cat) and we went ahead, one chair at a time. We’ve now got the first two back, and I have to say they look superb.

Before and After

It had to be done at some stage. And Bodoni was the trigger we needed.

How can a poor man etcetera etcetera.

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