It's no secret that I suffer from a rather serious and chronic couch disorder.
I've dragged my entire marriage and family through this drama with me- currently, we are enjoying couches #9 and #10 in a long line of second hand seating arrangements.
When your choices are flanked on one side by the awesome swag lamp, and an LP record of the Goertzen Family Singers on the other.... Well... You'll be amazed at what couches look amazingly appealing.
The first couple of
years months days with the new-to-you couch seem to go well. Then the crush of the daycare, the children, the pets, and the elements begin to wear on the ancient piece of upholstery. Time to throw a blanket over it. Go for the layered look while the inner springs work their way towards the outside.
Try your hand at some reupholstery.
Seems to work. No one's complaining.
But nothing lasts forever, and there comes a time when all these efforts and good intentions come to an end. If you sit down and find yourself undergoing a wire colostomy when you thought you were just plunking down to watch "The Office"... Well.. take that as a sign that it's time for that drive.
Even when it means convincing your body-builder/tae-bo instructing sister to help you hook a trailer to a van when you don't even know how to drive it in reverse just so you can make an urgent trip to the dump.
Yup. Looks like this place is missing something.
Doesn't look homey.