Stool was a small circle of wood, not too thick, but entirely solid. It descended from a branch of centenary olive tree from the province of Jaen. It seemed weak. Stool had the three legs, incrusted inside a circle of wood. The Stool was the oldest seat used by European people. I do not know if there is any other seat quite like it in other continents used by people for the same purpose.
While the Stool seat had acquired a polished protective layer on its base to overcome the lapse of time and use; over the years its legs still sustained the knots of the original branches. Even though, damaged they were able to hold it up strong on the ground.

Stool shared space with other types of seats such as chairs, armchairs, rocking chairs and sofas. There was also furniture made with wood: tables, shelves, cabinets and other tools like knives, handles, forks, spoons, ladles, topsides of beef, cutting boards, hair brushes, and shaving brushes. But the thing does not end here: beams, windows and doors were part of the half-timbered shared space with itself.
In addition each house contains multiple descendents of trees and shrubs, whether we find it more or less pleasant to have some vegetable in our residence.
My feeling for Stool is based on the fact that it has been a partner of all of us since childhood and endures over time. No influence it fashions Formica, of pressed wood or lacquer or fabrics.
When someone thinks of get rid of Stool. It is as if someone was to reject a part of their own identity. That identity is much more important than the lines on a map which define an area as country, state, and kingdom. It’s like the language in which you learn to babble. It’s like the landscape that has filled your eyes initially giving content to the different dynamic and static forms.
In short your little Stool is a piece of yourself.