Yesterday I decided I hate my couch. Before I took Kim to work in the morning I told her that in no uncertain terms. The couch is an old, ripped up piece of crap. It does have a couple things going for it - It's big and very easy to fall asleep on, but ick, it's just ugly. It was a freebee about 10 years ago, so it's had a good run, of all the old 'apartment' furniture we started with, the couch is the last remaining piece of early marriage start up stuff. Over the years we've disposed of most of the cast offs and begun to build our own collection. When mom passed away and dad sold the house, we acquired a great deal of their antique furniture, something I consider heirloom, not cast off, you certainly wouldn't find any of this stuff on a curbside.Dad lived with us after he sold the house, so essentially, he still had all his furniture. It was just in our living room upstairs instead of his downstairs, especially his couch. When we moved in here, dad had his own apartment, and his sofa went down there for him. Getting it down there was a feat to itself and we vowed that it would never come out of the basement.
Until yesterday.
In my living room, one sees a unique collection of furniture, my mom's easy chair, an old wing back, a marble top cabinet that has to be a hundred years old, the old victorian style coffee table (actually dating from the 60s, but it looks nice), and one really ugly couch. Time for change.
As I was laying on the 'new' couch yesterday in dad's living room; which is now the family room since his passing, playing a game on the PS2, I realized what I needed to do. I paused my game, pulled out the tools and started working. I removed the kitchen cabinet that prevented access to the doorway, removed the door and the jams to that room, removed the banister from the stairway, and moved anything out of my way that would prevent the sofa's escape. I asked a friend for help, and we were on our way.
Within an hour, we had the beautiful antique sofa in the living room, along with the matching chair, and the old ugly one was relegated to the family room. All pretty effortless considered the vow that it would never happen. It did.
So now, in my eyes, the living room is complete, a showcase sitting room, where I would be happy to accept company and entertain guests. OK, so the 'new' couch isn't as comfy as the old junky one, but we'll get over that. For the most part, we don't even use that room, the TV is rarely on anymore, the room has become a staging area of sorts - people get up in the morning, sit there over waky waky juice deciding a game plan, and then move off.
Kim's not too happy, but at least I didn't move something in front of a door this time. In our old apartment, I moved the furniture around while she was at work and forgot to tell her. That night she came in leaving the lights off so as not to wake us (Iain was a baby then), she tiptoed in and smashed into the chair I'd moved. I woke up to a loud 'ooophf'. She never forgave me or let me forget that.
At least this time all the pieces are in the same place as the old ones. Today's job is to put the kitchen sink back together, replace the banister and rehang the door I took apart to get the thing through. No job is finished until the mess is taken care of.
Cheers.
