In my family room, adjacent to a lovely wood burning stove across the room to my right and a large window to my immediate left that looks out over picturesque woods and a garden area. There is a wicker tray to my right that holds the detritus of my life: phone, books, magazines, Kindle, remotes, glasses, Chapstick and yada yada. Between the tray and me is the perfect dog niche. It is unoccupied at present, a situation soon to be remedied, I hope. My ex-husband used to refer to this arrangement as Pooh Corner.
The only disharmony is that Pooh Corner is built on the Most Uncomfortable Sectional Sofa in the World.
I have at least 5 other far more comfortable places I could choose to sit and read in my home, but I don’t.
I’m stuck with the Most Uncomfortable Sectional Sofa in the World because it is in the best spot in the house, and I just don’t know how to get rid of the goddamn thing. I bought the original cheap and nasty – yet reasonably comfortable – sofa for one reason alone: it fits perfectly in an awkward space in the hub of the house. Over time and due to its cheap construction, it began to break down. I ought to have replaced it promptly, but instead I sank and dithered, dithered and sank.
A dear friend felt sad at my sinking circumstances. She loves to reupholster furniture. You see where this is going. She asked if she could recover it for me. Against my better judgment, I said yes.
What she didn’t mention was that she didn’t intend to just reupholster it. She rebuilt the frame and replaced every bit of stuffing material with the thinnest, meanest cushions ever made, hard as the hounds of hell. She would not hear of me compensating her for her efforts. It looks stunning, nothing like the original. You can sit on it for about 15 minutes before your ass goes to sleep.
She worked so hard.
At present, my remedy is a fluffy bed comforter folded into an 8-ply thickness. I look forward to the day when I can quietly send the torture instrument on to Good Will.
It is soon my turn to host a monthly theme party for friends, including my upholsterer buddy. Maybe after that event, the sofa will suffer an accident from which it is unable to, umm, recover.
And then Pooh Corner will be perfect once again.