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have four sofas. Two are relatively new and are for people only. I
was not in the market for any new furniture but one of the more
mundane features of this house (which we moved into about a year
ago) is this sort of mauvish pinkish sculptured carpeting in the
living room and family room. The landlord said the previous tennants
stole it from the Zion Baptist Temple. I live in fear each day that
some evangelist will show up on my door step to reclaim their floor
covering. Still, as you can imagine....pink furniture is not for
everyone. These two sofas caught my eye as perfect matches for the
floor covering....a floral print, but not prissy....muted pink in
just the right shade and lots of greenery. I bought them. They are
overstuffed and some nights I'd just as soon bunk down on one of
them than my own bed. The sofa in the living room, which is really
not a living room proper...it is more like my study, is some
knock-off ultra suede in a camel color. It has seen better days but
is entirely presentable. Toby, my part time puppy (I raised him but
when he got to be as big as ap pony he went to stay at the farm with
Grant and now visits only occasionally), who is part greyhound and
part shepherd particularly likes this sofa and can be found napping
on it from time to time. This is also the sofa that survived my
son's testing for Consumer Reports magazine. I found him one morning
with three unwrapped tampons on each seat cushion, pouring a pitcher
of Kool-aid (Black Cherry) on each feminine protection product. It's
hard to get rid of a sofa with a history like that. I think I may
have shared information on my fourth and most recent sofa
acquisition. It is gold brocade and Rachael (my daughter) calls it a
"Brady Bunch Sofa". Yes, it is reminiscent of poor taste
in days gone past.....We accepted it when offered to provide more
seating for those times when the whole family wants to sit in the
family room with room for possible company and overnight guests. It
is rather large, sits on four wheels for that ever important
portability factor and is unique in that it is very low to the
ground....you sink right into in, but often need assistance in
getting out of it. It was custom made in Lancaster, PA for a woman
who was only 4' 11". That is my sofa repertoire.
As some of you may recall, we had four sofas. The
house we are vacating had a living and family room allowing us such
plentiful seating. We are giving up he family room for a fourth
bedroom in this instance. So.....some of the seating has to go. We
decided we could best part with what Rachael calls the "Brady
This is the gold brocade sofa we got
from a friend who had gotten it from a Doctor's wife who was very
short. The sofa was made in Pennsylvania Dutch country according to
specifications. In other words, it sits very low to the ground. The
other interesting feaure is the sofa sits on wheels. Rachael and I
were up very late Friday night, packing and move some of the
unwanted stuff out onto the carport as we are going to place them in
a local paper for sale.
Okay, after a very frustrating
week I admit to mixing a little Dickel in with my coke that
night.....it really loosened me up.
Picture this, a
typical residential neighborhood around 2am on a Saturday
morning....very quiet. Whap! The side door opens and out sails this
land yacht of a sofa onto the silent residential streets....we begin
wheeling it around front to the driveway.
on it and I'll push you."
"Don't be silly."
"No, really....I'll give you a ride."
hop on and Zeus (our three and 1/2 month old Norwegian Elkhound)
immediately follows. Off we go. Except that Rachael does not push me
to the driveway. Instead she runs behind the sofa pushing it in the
opposite direction all the way up Lincoln Drive (which runs into my
street). We are laughing hysterically as we fly past Stinky's house
(the landlord), past Mr. Compton's house (Rachael's junior high
principal). She collapses onto the sofa next to me, laughing. The
moon is full. We sit there in the middle of the street on our big
sofa, silent. Not one car turns onto the street. And of course, with
my luck---if one did; it would be a police car. We laugh about
trying to explain it to the cops. We look back toward the house and
see Mr. Mac's little red truck next door.
so sorry! I hit your truck!" I say.
with my car....I hit it with my sofa!" Rachael adds.
turn." I tell her and I get a running start and push her and
Zeus back to the house. We start to smell something a lot like
rubber burning....I suspect it is the wheels on the sofa. Yep, we
are burning rubber now!
We push up the driveway and rest
the sofa on the grass under the huge tree in the front yard. The one
with the two tiered flower bed around it....the one with the lights
around it....the one I spent so much time caring for, raking up
leaves around and providing food for it's occupants(countless birds
and thieving squirrels). It is perhaps the feature I will miss most
about this house. We sit quietly on this big sofa, under this big
tree gazing at the full moon. I look at this house and think, it's
not such a bad house. Hopefully someone will buy it cheaply and have
the good sense to replace the carpet that was stolen from the Zion
Baptist Temple by previous tenants and badly laid. Hopefully someone
will replace the aging plumbing, fix the roof and gutters and maybe
give it a fresh coat of paint. Hopefully someone will love the
backyard as much as I did and maybe even put up a new fence and
plant tomatoes back there next summer. The moon is so pretty. I wish
I would have thought about putting a sofa in the front yard, under
the big tree, a long time ago.
Goodbye, old house.
Alas, we don't HAVE a
sofa! Juli has met our futon, which is sofa-like. Does it count? Do
BIgSofa sofas associate with halfbreeds? the thing about futons is:
1) We have to make the bed every single day. 2) We have to unmake
the bed every single day. 3) If we eat snacks while watching TV, we
sleep on crumbs. 4) Visitors sit where we sleep. 5) The cats sleep
behind the futon when it's a sofa, so when it's a bed, they wander
around lost and confused. 6) When you remove a black futon cover,
the futon inside looks like it's been dragged through a charcoal
pit. 7) The longer you sleep on a futon, the more it form-fits to
your body. Tim and I can't switch sides at night anymore because his
dents don't match my body. 8) Because it's jerked up and down every
day, the wooden frame gets wobbly. One of the drop-down legs falls
off about every 2 weeks because it unscrews itself. After we moved,
Tim had to drill new holes all over it because so many of the screws
were stripped when we took it apart. I don't ever remember having to
reconstruct a real couch. 9) You can jump on a bed; you cannot jump
on a futon. I was being silly when we first got it and did a spazzy
leap into the middle of it. I snapped one of the slats in two; now
there's a piece of particle board across the gap. 10) People who
visit our place for the first time think we have a bedroom hidden
behind one of our doors. They're shocked when they find they've been
sitting on our bed, and that this really is all the space that we
have. 11) We'll probably never have a "real" bed or a "real"
couch as long as we live in New York (who can afford to pay for the
extra room needed for both). So our Christmas present to ourselves
was a "real" mattress for the futon. It's a new product
and only one company makes them. The inner construction is just like
a normal mattress, with a flexible area down the middle so it can
bend easily. This will sound trite, but the first night we felt like
we were sleeping on a cloud--I kid you not. We can even switch sides
now. That's it on the futon. It's not particularly memorable and has
no sentimental value. It's pure function.
My sofa is very special to me, but not to my husband so has been through
some trauma. It is blue, green, burgundy plaid. My husband hates it and
once when I was gone for 3 months he put it outside in the west Texas spring
time. It got sand blasted and rained on. Much to his dismay, I proudly
moved her back into the living room. (Incidentally, since she's a Texan,
she's not a "sofa", but a "couch".)
This is the former home of Big Blue, which is neither Lake Ozark nor Hoover Dam's Lake Mead. It is instead Lake Truman, where is the Harry S. Truman dam, for which reason it is the Truman Big Blue sofa. Reports Slackville's Management, "One American President is much like another to us
ignorant Brits which can lead to the creation of fables whose widths and
depths can only be guessed at. Here is latest version of where and why it's not where it was. It's as near the truth as anything can be. It was not the Hoover Dam but the Harry S Truman and the lake was the Truman
UPDATE: A scrap of paper has surfaced (yeah, yeah, I know) which has revealed the TRUE location of the Big Blue Sofa.
"It was at the Willow Winds Resort, Lake Road, Wheatland, Missouri and the lake was Lake Pomme de Terre.
But I definately went over that dam - I mean the road not the edge.
"For more see http://www.cottages.org/properties/MO-Wheatland-WillowWindsResort.htm.
"The swimming pool was empty but it still cost $46 a night."