About a year ago, my sofa and love seat caught my eye, big time! It was as if I had never seen them before, which seemed weird. The set had been gracing my living room since it moved with me from Staten Island.
Most of us don’t discard our furniture as quickly as a dress or a pair of red shoes; we usually give it some thought. Well, folks, I gave it a lot of thought, and finally, during the longest winter in history, I casually broached the subject with Frank.
“Hon, I’m thinking of getting new living room furniture — just a sofa and love seat.”
“Why?” (A typical Frank answer.)
“I want to change the look.”
Frank shrugged his shoulders, glanced at the floral-print sofa and said, “It’s a little girlie anyway.”
“Girlie?” My instincts told me to say no more.
I was clueless as to what my “new look” would look like. However, I did know that my floral-print duo was making me a tad nauseous.
I was a gal on a mission. For weeks I scrutinized different styles of sofas online and was able to pinpoint a design that sparked my interest. I progressed to perusing furniture stores — alone. Really, it would have been counterproductive to have Frank tagging along, looking for a cup of coffee while I was mired in furniture decisions.
While wandering around a furniture store, I hit upon a sofa and love seat that would definitely change the look. The next day, Frank accompanied me to the store and seemed surprised that I was on a first-name basis with the sales staff. However, when he saw my choice, he nodded and said, “Very nice, not girlie at all.”
The salesperson asked if I was interested in a coffee table. A quick glance at Frank told me he was looking for coffee, sans the table.
“Hon,” says I, “what about a new coffee table?”
Frank looked at me suspiciously and said, “I thought it was only going to be a sofa, and love thing — why not throw in a rug while you’re at it?”
“A rug? Good idea!”
Frank and I locked eyeballs; the salesperson walked away.
Frank sighed and said, “Look, Ceil, buy what you want, I’m going to the diner for coffee.”
I did some calculations: I had a consultation job coming up and perhaps I could squeeze in an extra freelance article and… Well, there were more reasons why I should, and so I did.
I put an ad in this newspaper and quickly sold my old furniture. Admittedly, I felt sad when I saw my floral sofa go through the door; after all, we shared a long history. However, the folks who bought the set were happy, girlie print notwithstanding.
When the new furniture arrived, I knew where I wanted the pieces placed. Or so I thought. After the delivery guys left, the furniture looked out of place. (Did I miss my girlie prints?) Frank began mumbling something unintelligible as we moved some stuff around. Finally, things looked right — for the moment, that is.
Then I remembered a lovely area rug that was stored in the basement. When I mentioned the rug to Frank, he got “that look.” I pretended not to notice and suggested that we put the rug in our dining room.
Frank was perturbed and asked, “What’s wrong with the dining room?”
“Nothing, but the rug would add to the new look.”
Frank and I hauled the rug up from the basement and centered it on the dining room floor. Frank put his arm around me and hopefully asked, “You OK with ‘the look?’ ”
Lately, I’ve been thinking that a fresh coat of paint in the living room and perhaps new window treatments would complete “the look.” But methinks I’ll not mention this to you-know-who. He can read about it in the paper.
Ms. Iannelli is a resident of Jamesport.