Eve, if the couch is calling the workchair a whore, why do I keep finding change and Cheerios under the couch’s cushions, but nowhere near the workchair?
Madame Eve, how remarkable! I was sure I felt our poor recliner crying out for a new look. I shall shop for new fabric straightaway. Incidentally, I’m not surprised that the beanbag is frightening - green vinyl is a terrifying cover for anything save, perhaps, a picnic table in the woods.
Eve
Does my couch hate me? It seems lately that when I can’t find my keys they are stuck down in the couch. This has made me late for many appointments. I don’t see why my couch should hate me. I don’t let the cats scratch it and I keep it clean.
Eve: Years ago, my family owned an item that was called “The Toybox,” even though it was much too large for a child to use and in fact sat in the living room and held my mother’s stash of yarn. From time to time, some sadistic family member or other, with the stated intent of “playfulness,” would throw me in the box, close the lid, and wedge it shut. The experience of swimming in skeins of scratchy yarn and pounding on the box is firmly burned into my memory.
This item left my family’s possession more than a decade ago, not to be seen since. I am very interested in tracking the piece down and holding it accountable for its role as an accessory in my youthful torments. Can you open your mind to the lemon-scented ether for any clues as to its whereabouts? Or at least mention it when communing with various other objets d’practical?
Madame Eve, I recently purchased this piece of art. Does my couch feel threatened by it? Also, since I’ve hung the art (a tapestry) on the wall, is it in pain?
Dear Madame Eve:
I use a former kitchen table as my computer desk, and one of it’s two companion chairs as my desk chair. The other chair sits in a nearby corner mostly serving as an improvised endtable. All three are rather plain and nondescript, but functional (much like their owner).
I wonder am I neglecting the chair serving as an endtable? No one ever sits in it, but the telephone, some books and magazines, and few computer related items have near-permanent residence there. Does that chair feel that I favor it’s sister over her? If so, what can I do to redeem myslf in her eyes?
Thank you.
As an aside: I was wondering if you can communicate with metal folding chairs. Just as I wonder why I have never seen the Pet Psychic communicate with any fish? Is she purposely neglecting our piscine friends?
Dear Madame Eve:
I use a former kitchen table as my computer desk, and one of it’s two companion chairs as my desk chair. The other chair sits in a nearby corner mostly serving as an improvised endtable. All three are rather plain and nondescript, but functional (much like their owner).
I wonder am I neglecting the chair serving as an endtable? No one ever sits in it, but the telephone, some books and magazines, and few computer related items have near-permanent residence there. Does that chair feel that I favor it’s sister over her? If so, what can I do to redeem myself in her eyes?
Thank you.
As an aside: I was wondering if you can communicate with metal folding chairs. Just as I wonder why I have never seen the Pet Psychic communicate with any fish? Is she purposely neglecting our piscine friends?
**Eve{/b] thank you for your insight into my furnitures feelings. With regard the 70’s Porn Couch is there any particular productions it would like to be involved in or should I just let it participate in our every day family drama’s?
I brought several of the chairs in from the garage tonight, and placed a sheet of cardboard under the microwave (as a temporary measure until I can obtain a more suitable/decorative base).
Thank you, Eve. They seem happier already.
Madam Eve, over the years I’ve donated quite a bit of furniture to charity, as I’ve outgrown hand-me-downs and replaced them with pieces of my own.
I am concerned, however, about one particular piece, a coffee table that my father let me have (it was unclear whether he “lent” or “gave” it to me) when I first set up house. It was of very simple design; what made it special was its material: Mexican rosewood, also known as bocote, which has the depth of rosewood but instead of of purplish-red undertones is more brown and slightly orange.
It was lovely but rather overlarge for my apartment. After a couple of years, I donated it to a well-known charity and took a nice tax deduction - which paid for its replacement.
I did not tell my father. I sometimes wonder if that has given me bad karma, even though he has since visited my apartment several times and has never asked about its whereabouts. (Indeed, he’s since gone on a bit of a furniture buying binge of his own and wouldn’t have room for it.)
My conscience would be assuaged if the table found a good home, where it is well cared for.
If the news is…unfortunate…are you able to contact it in the Beyond? Or should I instead consult Mr. Edwards?
Dear Madame Eve Furniture Psycho…errr…Psychic:
I recently purchased a reproduction of that classic portrait “Dogs Playing Poker.” As it is such a timeless work of art, I should like to give it a place of prominence in the living room, perhaps over the davenport. However, my equally classic reproduction of “Elvis On Black Velvet” currently occupies that spot. I had thought of moving “Elvis” into the bedroom and giving it a special place there, perhaps over the chest of drawers, or possibly moving it to another spot in the living room where it would hang between the two green naughahyde Laz-Y Boy recliners. Of course we all know how tempermental “Elvis” can be and I am afraid he would be offended if he is moved and become jealous of “Dogs.” I don’t wish to have two such priceless works of art feuding with each other and am at a loss as to what to do. “Dogs” is at present leaning against the breakfast bar in the kitchen while the decision is made on its rightful place in my home.
Eve, would you be a love and use your furniture psycho…err psychic abilities to communicate with my timeless masterpieces so that I may ascertain their feelings about where they wish to be displayed? I’m sure you understand my dilemma, as you no doubt are also a lover of truly classic artwork.
Dear screech-owl—Your couch insists the workchair is a dirty whore, and those Cheerios were planted there.
Dear Zebra—Your couch actually looooves you so much it steals your car keys so you won’t go. I suggest leaving the teevee on to The Furniture Channel, to keep it comany while you’re gone.
Dear Cervaise—Your toybox is actually at the foot of my bed, and is full of antique and out-of-season clothing. It says “helloooo.”
Dear yojimboguy—All of Western Civilization feels threatened by that piece of art.
Dear Widdershins—To make sure the chair feels loved, I have told it howe very, very useful it is to you. I suggest you pat it every so often on wherever you think its head might be. And of course, I communicate with folding metal chairs! They all sound like Fran Drescher.
Dear OxyMoron—You may indeed have bad karma with your father, but the coffee table tells me it has found a very happy home with a brownish-orange-colored Mexican family.
Dear Swampbear—Elvis tells me that, oddly enough, “Dogs Playing Poker” has always been his very favorite painting, and can you hang the two so they are facing one another?
Ma chere Madame Eve:
Our eight-year-old knotty pine bed creaks quite a lot, especially at night. I get the feeling it’s trying to tell us something. Can you translate for the Furniturese impaired? His name is Fred.
Beaucoup de mercis, votre amie Canthearya
Thank you Eve. Liberal sprinklings of catnip in the cushions have brought kitty back to the leather couch. I have even added a tasteful leopard-print accent pillow for the couch so there are no hard feelings.
(The Cheerios went the way of all trash, and the couch yielded up $3.67 in coinage. Most of it was fuzzy, so I consider the couch as being from a family with ‘old money’.)
eve, i am in the waning hours of home improvement. i am thinking of making a bold move.
there is a large cabinet i would like to move from between the windows (west wall) to between the door and the stairs (north wall). then create a “comfy” corner on the window wall.
the comfy corner will get the book shelves, comfy chair or two (one rocking one not) two tables, plants and lamps.
is this a good idea?
Thank you Eve. I will show my appreciation of the other chair more often.
And folding chairs sound like Fran Dresher? This explains so much. And finally gives me a reason to watch wrestling, just to imagine her yelling “Ooooooow!” whenever a chair hits one of those 'rasslers over the head.
She’s a fraud, I tell ya, just a scam! She isn’t psychic. She’s cold reading, that’s all. A series of vague questions, then, when the distressed chesterfield or sad sideboard reacts to some vague clue, perhaps a reference to beeswax or cat abuse, then bam! She’s in. Don’t trust her, she’s duping poor, vulnerable items of furniture. And they need protecting from con artists like this. Otherwise all you will have left is traumatised tables, schizophrenic sofas and jealous jacuzzis. This is the Straight Dope remember, we all know about charlatans and hucksters and how to deal with them. James Randi would turn in his grave, if he was dead. Even now I bet Sagan’s spinning like a top.
If you give her support, she’ll be on talk radio, then day time television and before you know it, the Antiques Roadshow! Imagine the horror of it, Eve, Speaker to Furniture, Goddess of Dado, richer than Oprah and smugger than Uri Gellar.
Dopers, save yourselves and your comfy chairs. It is still not too late!
Now, where did I leave my medication?
Curses! They’re on to me—foiled again! [exits stage right, twirling glue-on moustache]
Oh Madame Eve you Furniture Psycho…err…ic You! “Elvis” and “Dogs” are extremely happy together and look so exquisite, the one hanging over the lavender velour love seat and the other over the davenport (newly covered in a lovely leopard skin slipcover)!
Would you speak with “Deerhead” and “Robbie the Singing Bass” so that we may determine if they might like to be in a grouping between the Laz-Y Boys? Also, I should like to know if the “Little Boy Peeing” fountain (it is quite a small statue) would be happy sitting in a corner of the living room.
Dear Madame Eve, Furniture Psychic.
I can’t help noticing that every time I open my junk drawer my vast collection of Ikea allen wrenches forms a new and intriguing patterns.
Is it possible to predict the future of my furniture by casting the I-Ching with my allen wrenches instead of Yarrow Sticks? How might I interpriet them?