We moved into this house in December of 1996. In the spring of 1997 we finally bought some furniture to fill the living room, previously referred to as the Dancing Room.
It’s good furniture – kinda slouchy, and it’s covered with that ‘random-fabrics-thrown-together’ look that I like but is no longer ‘in’. We have discussed replacing it many times, but it’s one of those conversations that quickly devolves to its logical end:
Lauren: “This furniture is looking sad.”
Lloyd: “It’s old. How old is it?” (We both do the math and get different results. Math is hard.)
Lauren: “We’re never going to find something new. It will take years. We should start looking now.”
Lloyd: “We should just get it all recovered.”
(Long discussion about where that one guy’s shop is – the guy who reupholsters – and whether he even lives in Seward anymore.)
Lauren: “It will take just as long to pick out fabric as it does to pick out a sofa.”
Lloyd and Lauren: “I’m tired of talking.”
So, nothing ever gets done. Then one evening you sit in your favorite chair and realized that the arms of your chair are flat-out nasty. You spend the next hour watching Futurama reruns and squirting foamy soap on the arms and then try to rinse it out. Then baking soda gets sprinkled on and the next day, vacuumed off.
We are never going to replace this old stuff.
*sigh* I miss the Dancing Room.