We needed a real couch for our living room. When two friends visited us weeks ago, only they and Tom were able to sit in the same part of the room. I had to stand.
So not good.
We want ours to be a welcoming sort of house, so we needed a couch for guests to sit or sleep upon, should they spend the night and should we run out of rooms/beds/places to put them. Not to mention that I'd grown weary of watching tv all contorted in our high-armed love seat.
So yesterday we bought a new couch at, er, don't laugh... American Freight. And you might not believe this (Tom still cannot) but I agreed to a leather sofa. Bonded leather, that is. Other more unbelievable facts? It was just $398 (eagle-eye Tom found a teeny hole in it so without batting any proverbial eyes, the store people took $100 off). And they had same day delivery ($69). And I love this new couch.
And remember how I said I wanted more glass tables? We bought two of them while we were there, see if you can find them here:
Here's one closer-up:
And now our love seat has been sent to the corner, but it's a nice corner, I think:
I'm still amazed at how God provides for us inside this old farmhouse. Of course, we could have found a cheaper couch at an estate sale, but then Tom and I would have had to lug it inside the house. And well, uh, we used to always put saving money above saving our backs but we were young then--and now we are old. Or perhaps now we are wiser and can trust God to cover delivery charges. He's never failed us yet.
It's funny, but here online I've practically coveted tons of pretty living rooms with all white furniture and pink or green walls. And well, hopefully soon our walls will be green, but never will our furniture be all white--it's too late for that. But the strange part is that my delight in the furniture we've bought goes deeper than my oh-I-love-the-all-white-look. I'm certain I'd have tired of all that white stuff (tired of always cleaning it, certainly). But the rooms we've got going here are morphing into a certain fantasy look which has been inside my head since I was a child.
There's a certain look I've craved way before I ever went online and every once in awhile I'll see it in a house on tv or one in a decorating book. I can't describe it, really... it's an old look, a 'Time Forgot' look, like discovering a mansion with an overgrown yard and unique, quirky people inside who inherited the place, grew up there, and never changed a thing. Long velvet drapes, sweet potatoes rooted in water jars and sunlight and leaf shadows dancing across the floor. Piles of books, dishes, seashells and lots of plants. A sort of Pier 1, many-textured kind of place.
I'll bet you never heard a decorating look described like that before... I warned you I couldn't describe it. :) This essay by Nancy Eberle veers close to the description.
And almost by itself it's happening, taking shape within these old rooms. There's a certain feeling I've always desired for my house, but too often I became distracted by what friends or The Times were doing. Maybe it's taken getting past what people think to finally have the kind of house I was never brave enough to have before.