This is one of my (many) dirty little secrets. Well, it's starting to come out little-by-little. Nope.....it's worse than the mocha issue. My little Noodle is even starting to clue into this little tic of mine:
Here it goes:............ I'm Martha and I love other people's cast-off furniture.
When I see a good-lookin' chair at an antique shop - or better yet, on the side of a road - well, it just makes my heart go pitter-pat.
Whew! I feel a little better now! It's out there! Admitting your problem is the first step to recovery, right? RIGHT?
I got this little problem from my Mom. Her problem is with dishes and linens, though. She used to drag me to garage sales and estate sales when I was young. I hated it. When I was in high school she did find me some funky pj's at an estate sale that I loved. I think they were silk. BIG wild print. I wore the bottoms all the time with big sweaters. We called them cadaver pajamas. Any time we found something at an estate sale, it was cadaver______. Cadaver chair, cadaver art, cadaver dishes.
So, anyway, over at SavvyCityFarmer, there are a lot of cast-offs that she makes oh-so-beautiful. She is really an artist. I noticed that she has something for sale at a store in Chicago. Well, the Noodle and I are going to Chicago at the end of the month! I'm totally checking out that store. I think I saw it featured in Cottage Living Magazine a while back.
So here's my last cast-off:
You're going to have to click on the picture. It's the sofa in the back. Oh! And the lamp! Got that one from Kirsten, my divorce-desk accomplice.
You know? I may go up there and take another picture and post it later. You can't see it very well in this photo.
I found this little beauty on my way to work. It was sitting out in front of an apartment building. I passed every day for a week and each day I'd say to myself, "Self.....you've got to check out that little beauty tomorrow."
And the next day I'd be in an even bigger hurry than I was the day before.
So finally, one day I get to work and I call my Mom: "Mooooooommmm? Could you please drive over and see if this is worth picking up?"
Well, hello? This is my MOTHER we're talking about, people! Of COURSE it's worth picking up!
Anyway, she calls me after she picks it up, breathing hard with excitement, (Kind of like one of my sis-in-laws have just given birth to a precious new grandchild): "Oh! It's perfect! Custom made! Down cushions! We picked it up and put it in your garage!"
Now, I've shown considerable restraint over the years. Until I found this little sofa, I hadn't brought much into the house. I can admire things and walk on by. But it's getting harder and harder, people.
A couple of weeks ago? There were these great leather club chairs sitting outside an antique shop? Ohmygosh. My heart was aflutter. It was so hard to not stop and have a little look-see at these beauties. But I have nowhere in my tiny little house to put them.
Well, one day the noodle and I were going somewhere and passed the shop. They were still there.
But guess what?
My neighbors, Jeffy and Pam were sitting in them!!!!! Yay! I beeped my horn and gave them the "thumbs up" and by the time the Noodle and I got home, Pam and Mitch (Jeffy and Pam's son) were sitting in the chairs in their driveway! Yay! Oh - they are so comfy. They don't even need to be recovered and they're from the '50's!
Anyway, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.
Oooo. I forgot to mention something: The person my Mom normally uses for reupholstering just would not call me back about reupholstering my little sofa. So I took it to a place in my neighborhood. I'll never do that again. It cost me more than if I would've bought a new loveseat.
And I hate the way he did the cushions. To me, it's a no-brainer. Use a little foam-core and wrap it in the old down. Nope. He just used the foam core. I took the cushions back and told him I was unhappy. He wrapped them in fiber. They're better, but I'm still not happy - but I've spent enough on them.
Let me give you a quick run-down of how my conversation with Zuddy went when he was balancing the checkbook and found the carbon copies of the checks I wrote to the upholsterer:
I'm upstairs on our bed watching TV.
Zuddy: (comes up the stairs and peeks at me through the banister) "Mupp, who is this "Manuel" that you wrote a $750 check to?"
Me: (real breezy-like and casual): "Oh....that's the sofa-guy, remember? I told you about him. Manuel. Great guy."
Zuddy: (starting back down the steps), "Oh yeah! Okay. Sure."
Whew. Crisis averted. He's gone. 10 minutes pass.
Zuddy: (starting back up the steps) : "Uhhhhhh......so there seems to be another check for the same amount to Manuel, but it's a week later. Is this a mistake?"
Zuddy turns around - very controlled-like and silently heads back down the stairs.
So. You see, it's best I don't pick up more furniture for a while.
Okay. Here it is. Totally worth it......uhhhhh.....I mean I'll never do that again. Bad. BAD!