Saturday, January 17, 2015


I hate to buy furniture.  Most of what I have are hand-me-downs, stuff I inherited from my mom and dad, my grandmother's music cabinet, my great grandmother's Limoges China (well-worn, no value except to me).  Thirty years ago, I bought a sofa, have hated it for 30 years.   Prior to that, I bought a hide-a-bed, which was my bed and my living room furniture.  That was in 1968.  I have recovered it four times, most recently when I moved, and it has passed the test of time.  Comfortable, too.  It resides in the spare bedroom upstairs, which serves as a guest room when I have stay-over company.  (How is it that I can move 15 times, but not be able to bring new furniture into my life?  I guess I just have a thing about new furniture.)

I purchased a slip cover to cover the sofa in my living room, but I don't know why.  It is akin to pouring perfume on a pig.  On top of hating how it looks, it is uncomfortable to sit on, although you could have fooled my son and grandson on Thanksgiving Day.

Jim and Joe

While deciding whether to open the box with the slipcover, I actually hit the furniture store yesterday.  Not only did I find a sofa I liked, I got a new coffee table, two end tables, and a corner unit just so I could show off some beautiful urns that had a place of honor at the farm, but that now sit on the floor in a corner, hidden from view.  They deserve better.  I took off my shoes in the store and lay down on the sofa to make sure I could watch TV while supine and have plenty of room to cuddle with Ayn Chee.

Ayn Chee

Furniture is to be delivered on Wednesday.  Hopefully it will not go back on Thursday.