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Dining Room Sofa

Maybe you remember a post I made about the plans I had for this sofa nearly five years ago. It was quick and resolute in its concrete intent to bring this sofa back home to Sadie. Please note the date was before we even closed on Sadie. You may also notice that I posted the wrong style of sofa back then, because I had not laid eyes on it since 2010 or so, when it was wrapped up and put in my mother’s garage; and I was going by memory.

Rarely is reality better than my memory, but when I saw my Henredon sofa, I was thrilled over and loved the shape of it so much better than I had recalled.

Then I realized we had just set it out on the curb at my mother’s house and I was about to let the sofa go to anyone, for free. I had stored it in her garage for way longer than intended, which finally needed to be addressed; and Kenny was in no shape to deal with it, still healing from two hip surgeries last year.

I listed it in no less than twenty Facebook Marketplace groups, near to my mom’s address. Three people wanted it enough to send me a message; but not enough to reply after I informed that they should come get it that day, so it wouldn’t be soaked by the late afternoon rain storm heading our way.

Crickets.

Regret.

I stared at it and grieved, especially because I realized this beautiful sofa was going to end up living in a junkyard. I had so many plans for it… this just wasn’t the end I ever wanted. I cleaned it up a little, trying to make it more appealing… then started to get a little cantankerous. Everyone wanted this sofa gone except me, and no one would come and save it, even for free!

Deafening remorse!

Have you ever tried to find a mid-century Henredon sofa? Let me give you an example of the cost of just a loveseat.

Are you feeling my pain yet?

In my distress, I could sense Kenny’s attitude changing.

An opening?

I was desperate!

I stormed in: sofa facts in one hand, a fiery torch of truth in the other! I pleaded for him to join my righteous future, of us luxuriously resting and visiting with family on our beautiful, reupholstered Henredon sofa. Just look how perfect it would set in the big front window of our dining room! Behold, my vision! You see it, I know you see it!

SUCCESS!!! 😍

We began madly searching for a U-haul, but it was Sunday, and nothing was open. I finally located one moving company who could deliver the next day, but it would cost between $400 and $500, and more likely on the higher end.

But what of the storm?

AH! My brother, Travis, could come and help me move it back into the garage for one more night! I was ready to shout my credit card numbers over the phone, when Kenny decided we should come back to my mom’s the next weekend, with the truck and trailer. We could bring visqueen and tie downs for a safe journey, get Travis to help us load it onto the trailer… AND complete a couple of projects at my mom’s that required additional tools we could bring from home.

My husband really is too good for and to me.

Did it feel like a bit of a spoiled brat moment? Certainly! Am I sorry? No!

I mean, I hate that I may have come off a bit manipulative, but this was really important to me. It was important five years ago, when I posted my plans for it.

So, in short, Kenny caved and I got my way. 😃

The sofa is now home and we are in discussions with an upholsterer and looking for the new version of the same color and type of velvet that was on it originally. 🥰 The guy is really busy so it will be Fall before he can get to it, but that is okay, because it gives me time to find the exact fabric that lives in one of the deranged folds of my brain.

  • It can’t be too shiny.
  • It can’t be too dull.
  • It can’t be too yellow.
  • It can’t be too green.
  • It pretty much has to be exactly like the area around the tufts in the left side lower arm.

OH! He’s gonna LOVE me!!! 😂

By the way, do you see the bridge lamp on top of the chiferrobe?

Here it is closer:

That is one of two antique lamps I have bought for the slated solarium, along with a Frankenlamp I plan to make, and two matching pan chandeliers I will rewire.

Here’s a sneak peak at those plans: ❤️

You should see the lighting plans I have in play for the kitchen and dining room! But that is another post for another day. For now, here’s a photo of Frankie hiding/stalking behind one of the French doors in the dining room. ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

This is one of her favorite hiding places, where she will jump out and back in, then duck her head down to better stalk the human and canine prey in the house.

Her own little fall-out shelter! ☢️

Last night, she was under a chair in the parlor, then lunged out and attached herself to my ankle, as I walked by. She does this all the time and I go through my scripted response:

“Oh, you got me! Apex predator! I should have never underestimated you! Oh! It’s getting darrrrk! Tell mama I love her. Ack!”.

:Annnd scene!:

But last night she was ready to really take me down, and jumped about three feet, with all of her weight, and a little extra she found somewhere.

Shudder!

ALSO: Here’s a photo of three plates we received this week from our order of five plates and one platter, from artist, Jean Holmgren. 🥰 Aren’t they gorgeous!

If you would like to order your own, contact her from her website at jeanholmgren.com

Update: March 26, 2020

I originally embedded a YouTube video (below) of Every Breath You Take by The Police, with Frankie’s stalking behavior in mind. So Kenny and I were in my studio and I played the video after reading him my post. We’re singing to it and I go: “I’M A POOOOL HALL ACEEEE! EVERY STEP YOU TAKE!”.. while he goes: “HOW MY POOR HEART ACHES! WITH EVERY STEP YOU TAKE!”.

What just happened?

I have been singing that pool hall ace line for nearly 40 years! NOW you are telling me he isn’t some billiards champ/maniac, but a broken hearted poet of a stalker? Kenny blames my redneck raising for the misunderstanding. I say Sting mumbles and… this may require more coffee, but I am not altogether sure that my version isn’t the better one.

And by the way… THANKS for telling me right away! It’s only been forty freakin years and I always belt that part out with such CONFIDENCE! Because.. being a pool hall ace is something to be PROUD of FFS!

:Annnnd scene!:


Chelle Ellis
the authorChelle Ellis

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