My office has gone from being too-cold-needs-heat to too-warm-needs-fan in one week. I consider myself pretty fortunate to have an office that I like and that is comfy or able to be made comfy. I also sort of like that now, on sunny days, it comes with a time limit. I can sit in here typing and sorting my paperwork and charging my devices and chatting on social media and tidying my virtual and real-life desktops, but after a time it gets too hot and I go downstairs. Downstairs has been taking a while to gel properly. The kitchen is fine. The entryway is odd. The front room is lovely. The bathroom is perfect. The tool room is getting there. That leaves the television room and the dining room.
The dining room had a wrong-sized table (it needed something and this one was free) and the wrong balance. The TV room had a wooden box that the TV sits on, a box that came with it, which was the wrong size and shape. I don’t know about you, but the wrong furniture, to me, can make a noise, enough so that walking in to a room with it just makes you want to walk right back out. Cacophonous. This is only about my own stuff, I don’t have this reaction to other people’s rooms.
Ronni’s place, where I lived for the 14 years before I moved here, is being sold soonish. Her niece asked me if I was interested in some of her furniture. So I, with significant help, brought over a few tables and a lot of chairs (as well as a weird and very heavy piece of marble that is now in my garage waiting for a purpose). One table replaces the dining room table, and it’s the right size. It came with six chairs, all of which were better than the ones I had. A friend took the old wrong-sized table, but did not want the chairs. The other table, more of a sideboard really, I thought could maybe go behind the couch (it couldn’t) or under the TV (nope) but is nice in my dining room. I got two more chairs, one of which was needle-pointed by an older relative of Ronni’s and is of-a-kind with a chair I already have which was needle-pointed by Jim’s grandma.
Later that day, on a walk, I was mentioning to a friend that I still use facebook mainly for managing the massive librarian group I help moderate, and to look for furniture. He asked what I was looking for, I described my dumb TV situation (it’s larger than I need, it’s what was available, it sits noisily in a corner, failing to fit, looking awkward) and he said he thought he had the perfect thing. His parents, who both passed away over the past few years, had a wedge shaped shelf thing, pictured above, which he’d had in storage and wasn’t using at all. He brought it over and it fit perfectly and now that corner of the room is… silent? Euphonious? Mellifluous? Whatever it is, it works. Now my only issue is that my entryway looks like a chair store. I got rid of the TV’s wooden box stand on facebook. Gone in an afternoon.
Best of all this means I now have a place to store all my old cassettes which I’ve been happily sorting this weekend.
