Once the trauma of the summer puddle that turned our house into a renovation ruckus was completed, Stephen and I decided that rather than bring the old furniture back, we would give it to my brother, get a loveseat, haul out our good chairs that are comfortable and never used, and when Mer moved in, use her couch until something came along that interested us.
And then Mer decided that she didn't want to move home.
At least not yet.
I think it was the realization of the freedoms she would be giving up.
Freedoms she'd become very comfortable with.
And upon reflection was loath to lose.
So for now, with her second job on weekends at a Fredericton club, she should be able to manage to live on her own.
Knowing that if anything changes, we are here.
However, it does mean that we are sans couch.
Providing Stephen with all the licence he needed to jump onto Kijiji on the hunt for a couch and a couple of chairs.
There was nothing I could do to stop him, so I just continued on with my day to day living knowing that the time would come when he would approach me with his selections.
And then he did.
A 7 foot couch, burgundy with a tapestry design, a matching u-shaped chair and a green, wing back-like chair.
Very similar to the "parlour set" in the cottage at Murray Corner.
This set, too, spent its formative years in a parlour, and was very, rarely every used.
Meaning it is in excellent condition.
And it will look stunning in our chocolate brown living room.
Especially since it was purchased by the original owners, in 1944.
For $300.00 we now have new-to-us furniture.
Which won't be delivered until next weekend.
But at least we have furniture.
For now.
Until Stephen decides he wants to give them away.
Quakers are meeting at our house this morning.
This was standard practice for a long time, until it was decided that meeting in a public place would be more welcoming and accessible to those who were interested in attending, and who hadn't previously.
Typically we met at St. Thomas, meaning Stephen and I, as the only ones who had keys, facilitated.
Busy times.
But this fall, there was a decision to return to meeting in people's houses.
Now, we have NO problem with people coming here.
Not at all.
Frankie, on the other hand, is a completely different issue.
In fairness, he is more willing to accept people in the house.
Accept.
Not mingle with.
So while the Quakers are engaging in silent worship in our newly painted but furniture-less living room, I'll be in the kitchen with Frankie, in his crate, and Tikka.
Because silence will reign so long as one of us is in there with them.
Plus someone has to drive Em to work.
At 11.15 am
She was at a friend's house last evening for a little bit.
Keith locked her out of the house.
Meaning she spent the night on Mer's floor.
Why she just didn't call me, I'll never know.
The cell was right beside me, on my bedside table.
Ready for me to answer.
Kids.
Like husbands, I'll never be able to figure them out.
Title Lyric: Furniture by Amy Studt
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