I took dramatic action last week.
I allowed an interior decorator into my humble abode. Despite my oh-so-chic husband’s doubting opinions that we needed any guidance in Feng Shui, I happily charged ahead with a consultant–and was particularly tickled that a pesky gravel road wouldn't vex her.
For the past few years, I’ve desperately wanted to purchase new furniture since my sectional now appears to have a chocolate milk pattern that, in theory, should come off. But my visits to furniture stores have been fruitless, because I lack a certain visualization skill set. My senses pretty much hit overload when I see over ten sets of sofas, recliners and chairs. I close down. Everything seems so...Stepford Wife. Except of course, when we reach the recliners with the built-in cupholders. That's when I really shut-down. (Ironically, that is precisely the moment my family seems to really perk up.) Internet searches are just as overwhelming. One evening, seemingly after hours of web crawling, I found a handsome leather chair I really liked on the Ethan Allen site. It was $3,000. No dice. Not in this budget. And I couldn't even test the comfort factor.
So, now a lovely girl named Bryn from Brymon’s Home Furniture Store in
Atlantic came to my our house last week. The process felt kind of fancy for this plain, ranch-style that rarely finds itself...clean. But, I had the pleasure of bitching to her about everything I wanted changed about my house. It was awesome–for me anyway. And she confirmed a few of my suspicions. I just KNEW the TV should go in a different corner so a wire doesn’t run across the living room. Hmmm. Perhaps I DO have that interior designer's instinct after all.
|My new living room? It better be, or I'll be disappointed. Skyline and all.|
Anyway, I'm awfully excited that very soon we'll be set up with new living room furniture, barstools and a dining room rug. There’s a teensy part of me that questions the purpose because we’re a family that rarely has guests to our house, because the cleaning lady chooses to come once a month on a Tuesday which means the house is clean for precisely two days a month. Tops. (I keep asking her to come more, but she's not terribly responsive to my requests.) But we're going through with the purchase anyway. It’s up to some of us to keep this economy going, right? Besides, the Schwann’s man comes twice a month. Now, that I think about it, Mr. Schwanns always asks us about the football game on TV when he's here. Maybe, he just wants to try out the chocolate-patterned couch! Next time, we'll grab him a milk and make him take a seat.